Burden of the Curse
by FindingProvidence
Summary: After two wars, everybody was tired of fighting. Percy Jackson was no exception, especially after the excursion to Tartarus that he took to save Annabeth. A year afterward, Percy is once again thrown headfirst into trouble against his will. With new strength and new resolve, Percy finds himself questioning the true nature of humanity and of his own desire to protect.
1. Rage Against the Dying of the Light

**A/N: Hello and welcome all to my first foray into the world of Fanfiction. Or rather, my written and published attempt at creating a fairly decent product. I've read many good and some truly fantastic fanfictions on this site, and not just in the P.J.O section either. After some time, I thought to myself, "Hey, I might as well give it a shot too."**

 **So here we stand, with my first work, Burden of the Curse. Just a bit of a warning, this is going to be straying a bit from the normal universe that Rick Riordan set down, and as such I might confuse or irritate some people with how I choose to handle rules and whatnot that exist in the universe that _I'm_ creating here. Now this isn't a new idea or anything, and the concept for my extended universe has already been used I'm sure, but I just wanted to get that out there. **

**Alright, with that said I also want to say that I'm very, very sorry if I offend anybody out there with my portrayal of some religions or deities that make appearances in my work. I wanted to extend and expand upon the world of the gods, and as such I added in religions from all around the world, some that have more or less declined to near non-existent worship, while some others are still practiced by many people today. I try to keep myself impartial, and as such, I don't want to bash one religion while glorifying another, and as such I try to portray each with both positive and negative aspects. I decided to avoid Christianity and Islam altogether, considering those wouldn't really work with the whole "Polytheistic demigod creating pantheons" that are practically necessary for creating this world. Alas, the third largest religion will make an appearance, so to any who practice Hinduism, I try to be as accurate as possible, but there will more than likely be mistakes. Feel free to correct me if I make a fatal flaw, that goes for all religions of course. Again, sorry for any offense that I may throw down, but with fanfiction, that is pretty much always guaranteed to happen.**

 **Now to finish it all off, I would just like you to know that I might have a semi-erratic update schedule. I'm currently on break for university, but once the next semester starts well... I might not have a ton of time to write for leisure. Another note, I'm not an English major or anything like that, so I might not be the best writer and craft the best version of the story. I have this somewhat planned out, but sometimes I find it difficult to put my thoughts onto paper the way that it all played out in my mind. I like to write chapters in fairly large chunks, and usually they end up being 7k~15k words. This work is all self-edited too, so if you find major mistakes in my writing please bring it to my attention, because I would like to keep it as neat as possible.**

 **TL:DR: Thank you for reading my first fanfic, and hopefully nobody gets too offended by the way I portray religions and deities in my work. My updates may not always be fantastic, but I'll try to make it twice or so a month. Chapters will usually be anywhere from 7k~15k words, so hopefully twice a month is okay for you all, but again no promises.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own or make any money off of this work of fanfiction. All rights for the characters in Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus go to Rick Riordan and all who were involved in the creation of the novels.**

1\. Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light

Clouds lazily floated across the skyline of New York, occasionally blocking out the sun, then allowing for the chariot of Apollo to be seen once more. Campers at the demigod camp known as Camp Half-Blood busied themselves with various activities ranging from climbing the massive lava wall, to tending the strawberry fields, and even to practicing their swordplay in the arena. The general mood of the camp was similar to the clouds, lazy and in no rush. People were content with the lives that they were leading now, and they tried their damnedest to squeeze every ounce of enjoyment from their leisure time that they could before something thrust them into a life or death situation once more.

They were demigods, children of the Greek gods and mythological beings, which meant that just like their predecessors such as Theseus, Heracles, and Bellerophon, their lives were dangerous and never easy to lead. In fact, the past several years had only enunciated the brutal and deadly life that all demigods seemed to live.

The Second Titanomachy and the Second Gigantomachy had taken an obvious toll on Camp Half-Blood and it's inhabitants. The wars had taken a ghastly amount of lives, and had left many campers missing a few, if not several friends. Most had lost some family too, and that was only taking into consideration the physical aspect of the wars. Many people, demigod or not, simply have a difficult time bouncing back from war. Seeing friends and family being slaughtered at the hands of inhuman creatures would strain anybody's mind, even when trained.

Emotionally, people were having a hard time getting their bearings. Most hoped that they would never be called into service again. Many begrudged the gods for making them, the demigods, fight on the front lines in order to stop extremely powerful beings like the Titans and the Gigantes.

Everybody wanted peace, and everybody was tired of fighting. They wanted to feel safe for once in their lives, and they wanted to pretend that the wars and their aftereffects could just be waved away like a particularly bothersome mosquito. Unfortunately this mindset alienated many demigods who were unable to cope with the mental burden that the wars had placed on them. As unfortunate as it was, there were some suicides, those who simply felt that there was no point in trying to move on. And yet, these were swept under the rug, and not discussed as much as they perhaps should have been. Nobody could be blamed of course, because blaming one would be blaming all. It was just unfortunate circumstances that led to depression and eventual mental breakdown, which nobody seemed to be willing to talk about. Support groups were rare, mostly because people were afraid that if they talked about it, then the memories would come to the front and threaten to drown them.

As such, precautions were taken by only the millennia old trainer of Half-Bloods, Chiron. He had seen more than his share of cases that related to Post Traumatic Stress, and he wanted to lessen the burden on the demigods of the current generation. Unfortunately, as hard as he tried, he was only one man, and he was not willing to force campers to talk about what they had experienced while fighting. He pushed, and made announcements at the amphitheater every week. Flyers were posted on and in the Big House, as well as given to cabin counselors to hand out to their respective cabins.

The average turnout for each support meeting was about seven to ten, and those were simply the older campers looking to support their friends.

Clarisse La Rue was there, and supporting her was usually Chris Rodriguez. A beautiful relationship in Chiron's old eyes, seeing as how Clarisse had stuck by Chris during his bout of madness after his trek into the Labyrinth. Now it seemed that war had finally taken it's toll on the daughter of Ares, and it was Chris' turn to take the mantel of supporter.

Travis Stoll was another, and Katie Gardner and his brother Connor were there to help him through the loss of his left arm. It had been during the final fight between the Olympians and the Gigantes, and Travis had been distracted by lesser monsters. The manticore, otherwise known as Dr. Thorn, had managed to sneak up on the son of Hermes, and had sunk his teeth deeply into Travis' arm, biting through into the bone. It had needed to be crudely amputated in the middle of the battle by a child of Apollo since there was hardly any time to stop and tend to his wound. Luckily for him, a mechanical arm was in the works for him courtesy of the Hephaestus cabin and Leo Valdez.

A few other older campers from the Apollo and the Hephaestus cabins also attended the meetings, though there was more variety for these campers. Rarely was a face seen twice from the other cabins, those campers having just stopped by to see what the group was all about and how it was operated, before they decided that it dredged up a past that was best forgotten.

The only one who went to every single meeting was none other than Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon and Hero of Olympus twice over. He would always be at the Thursday meetings, never once late or too early, arriving exactly at 1:00 p.m. His sea-green eyes and black hair with a few strands of white were always present. The young hero would sit with the others, but never spoke about his own troubles, something that Chiron worried over for many nights. Instead he offered his solemn support, hoping to find a way to lessen the pain that his friends felt. He offered soft spoken words of comfort and small gestures of sympathy and empathy. Even after the wars, he tried to be other people's hero.

The old centaur didn't want for Percy to feel the need to be strong for the others, since that's exactly what was happening. Somewhere along the line the son of Poseidon had gotten the idea in his head that he needed to be strong all the time so that others could use him as a rock, an anchor so that they wouldn't be swept away from the tides of sadness that threatened to envelop them. Chiron knew however, that Percy too had his fair share of baggage to deal with. He had been to Tartarus, and had made it back safely, although what had happened was vaguely described by himself. It was truly unfortunate that nothing was being shared, mostly because as it turned out Annabeth had fallen unconscious shortly after drinking from the Phlegethon.

The reaction was to be expected of course, seeing as the river was literally fire, and the pain must have been immense, but something nagged at Chiron that there was certainly more than met the eye at the convenience of the occurrence. He had no doubts of Annabeth's integrity of course, and would never dream of accusing her of faking her incapacitation so that Percy would have to do all the hard work, but still there was something off about the situation. It definitely didn't help that Percy could only describe what happened afterwards in a very choppy and vague way. There was also an aspect that seemed to be missing from his story, mainly towards the end.

Tartarus had apparently shown up to confront Percy, and stop him from escaping with Annabeth through the Doors of Death. The son of Poseidon had described the primordial aspect of the Pit as a tall man, dressed in a charcoal grey three-piece suit. Apparently the primordial had no face, and instead only had a vortex of darkness that seemed to twist and warp the space around his head. While his appearance was odd enough, apparently his actions were even stranger.

At first, Tartarus had stopped Perseus, and had more or less demanded that he stay in the Pit. But then, after Percy had given his patented sarcastic replies, the primordial had simply laughed and let the two of them go. Chiron highly doubted that the protogenoi of the abyss would simply have allowed Percy and Annabeth to pass simply because Percy was able to, as the kids say, "talk some serious smack."

The son of Poseidon however was quite adamant that what he had said was more or less the sum of the trip, and Chiron was willing to let sleeping dogs lie. He certainly didn't want to stir up memories of that wretched location for his favorite student. The boy had too much to deal with as it was, and trying to fight memories that he didn't want was probably not going to do him any favors.

But the fact of the matter was that Perseus Jackson definitely was _not_ doing fine on his own.

And another fact of the matter was that Perseus Jackson _shouldn't_ have been on his own. But for some reason he was. It seemed that the other campers almost went out of their way to avoid him, their savior. Perhaps he too, was a reminder of the painful wars that had killed so many family and friends. That had left some crippled and scarred in a physical sense, and almost all scarred in a more metaphysical aspect. Maybe it was unavoidable that the campers would turn their back on Perseus, to take his aid for granted and to believe that because he had saved them all before, that he was n unshakable foundation. That perhaps he didn't understand human emotion, and that he could be treated like a simple marble statue, one that didn't need maintenance or displays of affection, however simple they may be.

Chiron tried to help Percy, but when even Annabeth had grown distant, working hard with her projects for restoring Olympus as well as designing additions for both Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter, it made little difference. A full year and some months had passed since the defeat of Gaea and the Gigantes, and during that time people saw Percy as a person on a hill, a hill in an ever distant utopia _(1)_. Something that could never be reached, and something to admire from afar, instead of moving forward to touch it. He was made into an ideal, and with that thought in mind people forgot that he too was human.

The seven heroes of the last great prophecy had gone on to attend their own matters after the war.

Jason and Piper had decided to stay at Camp Half-Blood, even though Jason was a son of Jupiter and not Zeus, and disregarding that Jason was a praetor of Camp Jupiter. The couple had managed to stay relatively happy together, and they were closer than ever before with the life threatening situations having been dealt with. Piper had grown to be far more confident than before with the help of her boyfriend as well as the other seven heroes. She ran the Aphrodite cabin differently than Drew Tanaka had, and she more or less imposed weapon training on the cabin at least five times a week. She wanted to make sure that her half siblings would be able to fight if something else were to ever happen like the Gigantomachy.

Leo had also decided to stay in camp most of the time, along with his own love interest, Calypso. After he had freed her from Ogygia, the two had decided to settle down in camp. While there were some who seemed skeptical to have Calypso there, seeing as she was a daughter of Atlas, most people seemed to be fine with her being there. Percy was extremely disappointed that the Olympians had not freed her sooner, and had profusely apologized to Calypso for not checking to make sure sooner. The girl had understood that Percy had other obligations to deal with, namely stopping a primordial from destroying civilization as they knew it, so it had been easy to forgive him. Leo and Calypso were not always in camp though, as Leo had decided that Calypso needed to see more of the world, and so they often were gone with Festus 3.0 exploring the vastness of the earth.

Frank and Hazel had both decided to stay at Camp Jupiter, with Frank having been made praetor, now serving alongside Reyna. Both had gotten their curses lifted, and Hazel had been allowed to remain in the world of the living. The two were happy together, and were preparing to get into the university that was in New Rome. Chiron didn't know much about what else was happening at Camp Jupiter, but from what he understood it seemed that things were going well for everybody there. Without that legacy of Apollo, Octavian, to incite violence against the Greeks, cooperation was now much easier between the two camps, and there was even talk of a new camp being built in Kansas for both Roman and Greek half-bloods to go to. It would be a good place since it was between both Long Island in New York and the bay area in California.

Annabeth had finally gone about her work remodeling Olympus after the Second Titanomachy, considering she hadn't had enough time to do so what with Gaea rising and Percy disappearing due to Juno's plot to unite the camps. Now that she did have time, she had worked with extreme fervor, planning new temples, monuments to the fallen, better sets of doors for the throne room, et cetera. She had also been asked to help improve both camps for the half-bloods, adding in extra buildings for a variety of different activities that could be done. New Rome was less in need of these kinds of buildings, but Camp Half-Blood was set to have certain aspects incorporated from the Roman camp, such as shops and even a school building. As such, the daughter of Athena spent many of her days on Olympus in order to consult with some minor gods and even some Olympians on whether or not certain additions fell within budget or if they were aesthetically pleasing.

Everybody had gone on with their own devices, and in addition, six of the seven had accepted godhood as their own rewards for saving the world from a vengeful primordial of the earth. Jason had become the minor god of storms and valor, Piper the minor goddess of charm and confidence, Leo the minor god of mechanisms and fire, Frank the minor god of transformations and perseverance, Hazel the minor goddess of precious metals and jewelry, and Annabeth the minor goddess of architecture and planning.

The only one who had not accepted godhood when offered for the second time, was Percy Jackson. He had respectfully declined once again, and instead called in a few favors. As such, both Hestia and Hades had gained thrones that signified their status as Olympians. The rejection had apparently caused Zeus no small amount of grief, and many other Olympians seemed quite displeased with Percy's choice. Chiron was worried for his student, seeing as how he was still mortal, and had now angered the gods twice over in such a way. To make matters worse, Chiron had guessed that Annabeth had accepted godhood in hopes that Percy would follow and do the same. She had made a very risky gamble and it had backfired spectacularly, undoubtedly straining the relationship between her and the son of Poseidon.

Chiron had no doubts that the daughter of Athena had good intentions, if not wholly selfless ones. He could not fault her for accepting godhood, as very few would have the will to refuse such a generous offer. Percy of course was a very notable exception to the case, seeing as he had done it not once, but twice, all in the name of helping others.

It was hard to watch though, as the Hero of Olympus was slowly pushed away by those he once called close friends.

Nico di Angelo was more present at camp, what with him being in a relationship with Will Solace, but Percy's cousin was always somewhat distant to everybody. While his relationship with Will certainly helped him interact with people more often, the son of Hades seemed content to spend his time with his boyfriend when at camp, and travel the world and Underworld when on one of his small excursions.

Thalia Grace of course had to remain committed to the hunters of Artemis, especially with the loss of many hunters during the Second Gigantomachy. Chiron had heard that Phoebe, a daughter of Ares who had been with the hunt for almost two millennia had fallen to Orion. With her and at least ten other hunters lost it had taken a heavy toll on all of the girls, Artemis being hit the hardest of course. Her hunt was her family, and she loved each girl like a daughter or sister. The goddess of the moon had been fervently searching for more members of the hunt since the end of the war, taking her equally as dedicated hunters with her across the United States. With that in mind, it was no surprise that the hunters came by far less often than they had in the past, meaning that Thalia also came by less often.

The one thing that Chiron could say was a positive was that when the hunt stopped by, Thalia would always talk to Percy. It was nice to see that not everybody figured that Percy was just an impossibly strong hero. She saw him as a cousin, perhaps something closer to a brother, and as such she treated him the same as she always had. Those were the times that Chiron could say that he heard Percy laugh and yell insults like a child back at the daughter of Zeus. Truly it was heartening to hear the boy so happy, or at least as close to happy as he could be.

The problem was that the hunters could not always stay at camp. This meant that Thalia could not always be there to treat Percy like a real human, and as a result Percy would often go back to his more reserved and soft spoken persona that he forcibly adopted.

Currently it was 1:25 p.m. on Thursday, meaning that there should have been a support group meeting going on in the Big House. Chiron stared at the clock, the only other occupant of the room doing the same. The trainer of heroes sighed to himself. It seemed that there would be little point in continuing to hold the meetings. Attendance had dropped from a pitiful handful, to next to nothing.

"I guess people are moving on huh Chiron?"

"Don't let appearances fool you Percy. I don't believe that anybody has really moved on from the wars," Chiron said sadly, his eyes giving Percy a knowing look.

The son of Poseidon shrugged noncommittally, his shoulders heaving up and down in a slow manner. The boy leaned back in his chair, tipping it back on two legs while planting his feet on the ping-pong table. He lazily crossed his arms behind his head and let out yawn. "That's true enough, things don't really feel the same anymore do they?"

"No, they really don't." Chiron slumped, running a hand through his hair. He wished that he could help everybody, but the centaur had trained enough half-bloods to know that there was little he could do if they did not want help. No, perhaps they wanted help, but simply couldn't find a proper method of getting help.

Percy must have noticed Chiron's disposition, because he attempted to cheer up the old centaur. "You know, I really do think that Travis and Clarisse are getting past their own problems. I mean, Travis is supposed to be getting his new arm soon. That's a plus." Percy scratched his chin. "Clarisse has seemed to accept that there was nothing she could do to save many of the campers that died. For of daughter of Ares, she's surprisingly invested in saving her comrades lives…"

"Yes, it's good that she understands that not everybody can be saved in battle, no matter how much she wants to. And it is fortuitous that Travis' replacement arm is being completed soon. We'll have to thank Leo when we see him again…"

The Hero of Olympus stood from his chair, and clapped his mentor on the back. Sea-green eyes met tired brown ones, and Percy gave Chiron a half-hearted smile. "Don't beat yourself up over things like this Chiron. It's not your fault, and you can't really force people to relive painful memories, even if it is in order for them to heal. Eventually I'm sure things'll get better."

"I do hope you're right Percy my boy. It's just difficult to watch as the ones that I've trained struggle after their battles have been fought. This should be a time of peace, but all I see are internal struggles within so many campers… within so many _heroes_."

Percy nodded thoughtfully. "Things will be different from now on, I can already tell that much. But in the end things will probably work out."

Chiron chuckled a bit, causing Percy to give him a questioning look. "You were confident in the statement prior to your last, but then it seemed to have vanished. But you are correct, things will be different, and I'm sure people will move on with their lives."

The raven-haired teenager gave Chiron a lopsided grin, and slapped his back. "That's the spirit Chiron." Glancing at the clock once more Percy sighed. "Since nobody seems to be coming I guess I'll just take off. Doesn't make any sense for me to be the only one."

"Not true Percy," Chiron rebutted with a shake of his head. "I'm sure there are things that you could get off your chest. Things that make it difficult to sleep sometimes?" The centaur prodded.

Percy didn't miss a beat, and quickly responded, "Nah, Tartarus takes a toll on everyone, but there's nothing anyone can do about that. Not really a big deal."

"Even when it looks like sleep has eluded you for a few nights already?" Chiron asked seriously, taking note of the dark circles under his student's eyes.

"Trust me Chiron, I'll be fine." Percy said, waving off his mentor's concern. The hero turned around and made his way to the door. "Thanks for the offer though. I'll be sure to stop by if anything really is bothering me."

With that said, the trainer of heroes watched Percy Jackson leave the Big House, walking out into the midday sun. "I do hope that's true Percy, I really hope it is."

* * *

 _With Percy..._

The sun beat down onto Percy's black hair. The few grey strands from holding the sky were made clearly visible in the golden glow of the sunlight. Percy placed a hand over his eyes as he looked out over the camp, watching as campers went about their own business. People ran to and fro, some of them laughing, some others shouting incomprehensible things. Percy looked towards the cabins, and smiled to himself. He still liked to see the additional cabins that had been added for the minor gods and goddesses. Whenever he looked at the Hypnos or Morpheus cabins, or the Iris cabin, he felt like he had made a real, physical lasting impact on the camp.

No longer would children of the gods have to be stuffed into the Hermes cabin. Children were to be claimed by the age of twelve now, and with the new cabins there was no overcrowding in the Hermes cabin due to kids being unclaimed of having minor gods as parents. Those days had passed with the Second Titanomachy, good riddance. Things had changed a lot since Percy had first arrived, and much of the change could be attributed to him, even if he didn't like to admit it.

The son of Poseidon walked towards the beach, and sat down in the sand. He let the sea breeze wash over him, and he closed his eyes. In his mind images of an ancient evil washed over him, chilling the Hero of Olympus to the core. A shiver went down his spine as his eyes snapped open immediately. Percy ran a shaky hand through his hair and cursed under his breath. He fell back into the sand and simply lay there for a few minutes, eyes wide open staring at the cloudy sky.

The nightmares hadn't stopped ever since his fun vacation to Tartarus with Annabeth. While they weren't every night, they would come back at random times, making sleep a crap shoot. Percy wouldn't fool himself into believing that he would be recovering quickly, or anytime soon. He just wanted to be able to fall asleep without wondering if he would once more be thrust into one of his horrifying dreams that seemed all too real.

' _Maybe they are real. After all… I met the embodiment of Evil down there,'_ Percy mused to himself as he tried to relax in the sun. The teen shuddered at the memory of the meeting and the subsequent trip through Tartarus. He felt his breath hitch in his throat at the recounting, and quickly stood up, running into the water. He waded until he was waist deep, then dived into the sea, willing the water to propel him further down into the depths.

Percy eventually stopped, getting the feeling of reaching about one hundred feet below sea level, and several hundred feet away from camp. He simply floated and watched as some of the sea life swam around him, giving the son of Poseidon polite nods as they passed. Percy responded to any that passed him, letting his mind wander to unimportant things, glad that his abrupt panic attack had passed. The teen ran his hand over his face in exasperation and defeat. He felt like screaming, like finding something to kill so he could let out his frustrations with himself for being so weak.

He needed to prove to himself that he was still in control, and that he was still strong. He couldn't afford to be weak, not even in "peacetime", as some people liked to think of it as.

Percy simply felt that it was a short breather before the next big crisis came along and thrust all half-bloods into another war. He wasn't so sure that anyone, including himself, could handle anymore pain and fighting. Loss had been a constant in his life for years, and he wished that he could just feel at ease for once without fear of losing something important to him.

' _Damn him, all he did was complicate things even further.'_

After nearly thirty minutes Percy decided to resurface on the beach, walking out onto the sand with his clothes still dry. A few nereids waved at him, and he gave them a smile and wave in return, causing many of the to giggle. He rolled his eyes, already used to the treatment that the inhabitants of water gave him due to his parentage. Percy walked off the beach, deciding that he was done swimming for the day. As he was walking to his cabin, a flash of light off to his side signaled the arrival of a god.

Percy turned and saw Hermes tapping away on his phone, undoubtedly doing something related to his work. The messenger of the gods looked up from his device and saw Percy giving him a questioning look.

"Ah! Good I found you quickly Percy. Listen, Zeus needs you up on Olympus though he didn't really say why. Sorry that this is short notice, but I hope you don't mind coming with me," Hermes said, not really phrasing it as a question.

Percy felt as if he really had no other choice, and therefore sighed and nodded. "I guess it's fine, I had nothing else to do. Maybe I'll get to see Annabeth while I'm there too…"

Hermes nodded and flashed the teen a smile. "That's the spirit! Alright, hold on tight, you know how teleporting is for mortals."

With that, Hermes snapped his fingers and flashed both himself and the son of Poseidon away.

* * *

 _On Olympus…_

Percy opened his eyes to find that he and Hermes had been transported right in front of the doors to the Olympian council room. Hermes turned around and held up a finger to Percy while he typed something out on his phone. After several taps he put his finger down and smiled.

"Okay, let me go on in there first. You'll be called in once they need you, so just head through once Thunderbeard shouts your name," Hermes said conspiratorially. He gave the teen a wink before pushing the doors open and walking through.

Percy watched as the god disappeared through the doorway and as the gilded doors shut themselves. Sighing, the Hero of Olympus waited impatiently as the minutes rolled by. Looking around, the teen saw multiple memorials around his immediate vicinity. He gave the gleaming statues a once over, and realized he recognized some of the people that were immortalized in bronze. He saw Castor, a son of Dionysus who died during the Battle of the Labyrinth. Another statue was of Zoë Nightshade, the late lieutenant of Artemis' hunters, who died fighting her father Atlas on a quest to rescue Annabeth and Artemis. There was also one of Michael Yew, who died on the Williamsburg Bridge during the Battle of Manhattan.

Percy could vaguely hear the sounds of what seemed to be a heated argument. While the doors were extremely thick, apparently the gods hadn't thought about buying acoustic foam in order to soundproof their very throne room so that nobody could listen in on potentially important discussions. While the thought of seeing wedges of foam glued to the walls of the Olympians council room was humorous, Percy was brought out of his musings fairly quickly.

"PERCY JACKSON!"

A thundering voice broke Percy out of his reverie, and the son of Poseidon strode through the doors, pushing them open with some effort. Once inside the council room, he immediately noticed that his father was missing. The raven-haired teen made a mental note, and took stock of the faces of the other Olympians. He saw everybody else was present in their own thrones, including Hades and Hestia. Both of them looked quite displeased though, if Hades' scowl and Hestia's livid expression were anything to go by. In fact, most of the Olympians looked rather miffed or just plain apologetic, two emotions that set Percy on edge in a flash.

The air was thick with tension, and even Zeus had a look of discontent and discomfort. Upon noticing this, Percy frowned and looked squarely at each god, meeting their eyes with his own. Most seemed unable to hold his gaze for more than a second before it was diverted elsewhere.

Finally, the demigod couldn't take the awkward silence anymore. "So… I'll take it I'm not here for a late celebratory pizza party right?"

That got awkward shuffles from the group of gods, who shifted in their seats as if there was a fire underneath each throne. Eventually it was Zeus who steeled himself and spoke. "My nephew… there is really no joy in this decision, but many of us have come to a consensus." He paused and looked around getting soft nods from some Olympians while others just glared at nothing in particular. He cleared his throat and continued.

"We know you have done much for us and our children, your friends as it were, however we have just received a new prophecy that was given directly through Apollo… it would seem you are once again involved in this prophecy, and that once again the world seems to be in danger."

Percy couldn't believe it. Another damned prophecy was being thrust upon him, and once more apparently he would need to help save the entire damn world. He ran a hand through his hair, and sighed loudly, getting frustrated with the way his life was playing out. So many people wished they could be the hero and save the day, then they would get the girl and they would live out the rest of their days happily and with no worries. But for some reason it seemed that Percy was simply not going to get that kind of ending. Rather the more conflict arose, the more likely it was that Percy was going to get the _eaten by monsters_ bad ending.

"Unbelievable… okay, okay, what's the prophecy then?"

Apollo coughed and rose from his throne.

" _ **Soon a world divided dies**_

 _ **Those who were once forgotten rise**_

 _ **A jaded hero, choose his path**_

 _ **Those who oppose him, feel his wrath**_

 _ **Olympus in flames, the occupants fall**_

 _ **All while the cursed stands proud and tall**_

 _ **They take the pain of humanity's war**_

 _ **A world united, be birthed once more."**_

Nobody spoke after Apollo had finished reciting the prophecy that had been given. The gods seemed to worry after having been reminded explicitly of the prophecy once again. Percy mulled the words over in his mind as he tried to decipher the meaning of the prophecy.

"So this 'jaded hero' is the villain of this story it seems… and I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that you all think I'm that hero," Percy deduced, observing the gods on their thrones. "In other words, you're afraid of me… so is that what this is all about? Are you going to kill me to try and avert the fate that has been decreed?"

Many of the gods looked slightly offended that Percy would even entertain the thought that they would do something like that. But as they looked back on their past actions, especially those of Zeus, they realized that the son of Poseidon certainly had reason to believe that they would do something so callous in order to stop their downfall.

Percy's face had adopted a frown as he carefully watched the Olympians, his eyes were narrowed, and his hand had already pulled out Riptide in it's pen form. He hid the pen in his hand, but was prepared to uncap his trusty sword at moment's notice if an action were to be taken against him. While he didn't want to fight the gods, and he knew that he probably couldn't win, that wouldn't stop him from defending his own life if need be. In a way, he was glad that Poseidon hadn't shown up to this council meeting. It would have been much harder if he had to fight his own father.

"No Perseus, we do not want to kill you… that would only cause a schism between ourselves and our children. With another conflict looming, it would not be wise to cause such discord within our ranks. No one has suggested that you be killed, not even Zeus or Ares, which must go to show you how much you have changed this council," Athena said, gesturing to her father and the usually petulant war god.

Percy looked at both of them with mild surprise, before he schooled his features and gave Athena a skeptical glance. "Then what, pray tell, have you decided to do? Does anybody else know about the prophecy?"

The goddess of wisdom shook her head. "Nobody else is aware of the prophecy, seeing as we received it only a few hours ago. During that time we have been spending our time trying to decipher the true meaning of the prophecy, and how to take appropriate counter-measures against it. As for what we've decided… well… we would like to make you a god."

Percy clenched his fists at Athena's words. "This again? Listen, I've already turned you down twice, so pay attention this time. I. Don't. Want. To. Be. A. God."

"What's stopping you now though?" Aphrodite suddenly asked. "Annabeth has already become a god, so you have no real reason to stay mortal right?"

At that, many of the gods nodded their heads in assent seeing the logic in Aphrodite's statement. True enough, Percy had turned down godhood the first time because of how he felt at the thought of leaving Annabeth mortal while he would live forever. That and he had promised Luke to make half-bloods feel wanted to prevent something like the Second Titanomachy again.

"That's not the reason anymore," the Hero of Olympus said softly. He unclenched his fist and looked around. "Can I have a chair or something, standing here is getting really old."

Hephaestus grunted and snapped his fingers. The floor behind Percy opened up and a chair was brought up via a mechanical lift. The seat was made of red leather, and Percy fell back into it, sighing with content.

"Thank you Lord Hephaestus."

"Perseus, what do you mean that my daughter is not the reason you don't want to be a god?" Athena asked, getting the conversation back on topic.

The teen scratched his neck and gave a strained smile. "I'm… I'm just tired of being a demigod, I'm tired of all the fighting, and if I become a god I'm sure there will be a lot more to come. I just want to live a normal life… just start a family, grow old, and eventually die. I'm not afraid of my own mortality, unlike some people."

The silence in the council room was deafening, and Percy garnered more than his fair share of incredulous looks. The son of Poseidon shrugged as he saw the looks he was getting. "I know it must be weird to hear, but that's just the way I feel."

Some of the gods nodded in acceptance, while others simply frowned as they tried to understand the young hero's position. Of course, for one who has been immortal for their entire lives, it would be difficult to understand the acceptance of one's own fate in death eventually. This was a very large difference between mortals and the immortals. Acceptance.

Immortals simply did not understand that from a young age, humans come to accept their own deaths as an inevitability. Even if they do not wish to die, they still understand that death comes for all in the end. Of course that isn't to say that they will go quietly into the night, and just roll over and die. Perhaps that is why mortals are so innovative, because their lives moved far to fast. Never ones to settle for standing still or moving back, mortals pour their efforts into moving forward, into building a legacy for the future so that once their time comes, they will be granted a peculiar form of immortality.

Immortality through remembrance. Many mortals have been granted that form of immortality, and they are still talked about to that day.

Sun Tzu, Genghis Khan, Wu Zetian, Attila, Muramasa, Catherine the Great, Cao Cao, Charlemagne, Napoleon, Frederick Barbarossa, Maria Theresa. The names of only some of the most renowned and respected people in history. There were many, many more names to be mentioned of those who immortalized themselves through their actions.

On a very deep level, Percy already knew that he had been given the same treatment, at least for the demigods. He was undoubtedly already in the history books of Olympus, and his story would probably be passed down through generations of demigods to come. He might one day be the definition of strongest half-blood. Or perhaps that's how people already saw him.

Perhaps that's why people avoided him. Maybe they just couldn't understand that he never wanted to be the strongest. It was never his intention to take the glory, and it was never his intention to break the mold. He had always just wanted to make his mom happy, however he could, and to maybe one day find out who his father was. That was what he had desired over five years prior when he first was thrust into the supernatural world. Now though, he had accomplished these things, with him being the son of Poseidon and with his mother finding love with Paul. Now, he wanted to relax, and to just live the rest of his life in relative peace. He didn't care for more glory, nor did he care for rewards.

"Percy, are you being real right now? I mean, immortality is pretty great! Not to mention if you're a god you get some pretty sweet perks, and you'll probably be given some cool domains," Apollo said, nervously trying to convince the teen. Percy frowned as he saw a small amount of sweat gathered on the God of the Sun's brow.

"Stop, you are all obviously planning something if you want me to accept your proposal so much. You might as well come out with it instead of beating around the bush. You can't buy me, why don't you all understand that?" Percy felt his voice rising slightly as he spoke, obvious distaste coloring his tone.

"That… is very unfortunate. We would have happily made you a god, perhaps granting you the spot of the fifteenth Olympian. Certainly not a gift to sneeze at…" Artemis said, leaning forward a bit in her throne, seemingly pleading for him to take the deal.

Percy felt exasperation set into his body. "So what… you'll just make me a god and then what? How do you think this helps the prophecy at all? How will that swing it in your favor, since I know that's what you want to do."

Another uncomfortable silence gripped the throne room, leaving many gods looking to Athena for her to clarify whatever it was that needed to be said. She frowned at her fellow Olympians, displeased with their display of weakness. Percy for his part held his ground, but found himself gripping the arms of the chair quite tightly, and action that did not go unnoticed by some of the gods.

Finally it was Hestia would spoke, her eyes not meeting Percy's when she addressed him. "That wasn't exactly the full scope of it all. Before you were to be made a god the council would wish for you to take an oath of loyalty."

Finally, the full gravity of the situation made itself known to Percy.

They wanted to leash him like a dog, one that would bark and fetch for them on a whim. They wanted him to swear on the Styx, almost as if all that he had done for them already was worth nothing. As if they had no faith in him. Could they really look him in the eye and tell him that he couldn't be trusted to do the right thing?

"Are you kidding me? You want me to swear my undying fealty to the safeguarding of Olympus? You don't think that everything I've done for you already is worth even an iota of trust!?" Percy asked indignantly, his fists clenched and nearly trembling. He stood up and glared fiercely at all of the gathered Olympians. "Do you really think so lowly of me? I can't believe it, you all haven't changed! You can't rely on other people, and you're all letting your damned pride blind you and alienate your allies!"

"Perseus please understand-" Athena tried to start, but she was quickly interrupted.

"Understand what? That you would rather place me under an unbreakable oath than simply let things fall as they may? Has it ever occurred to you that the prophecy may have a double meaning? Or that maybe your meddling might just make things worst than they were originally supposed to be. Have you considered that the prophecy just won't be so easy to manipulate to your own desire, and that you're playing directly into the hands of the Fates with your actions?" Percy asked, his voice laced with disgust.

"Please Percy, we just want to ensure the safety of not only Olympus, but also of our children. If you accept our offer then you can most definitely be helping them, and keeping your friends safe," Aphrodite said softly, trying to calm the son of Poseidon.

"Yes, we are willing to give you the domain that has to deal with heroes, meaning that you would be above the Ancient Laws, so you can protect all half-bloods and heroes, other than your own children should you sire any," Zeus added quickly, hoping to sway Percy.

"Enough! Where's my dad? What does he have to say about all of this?"

Hades was the one to answer, finally speaking for the first time since Percy had arrived on Olympus. "Poseidon was vehement in his opposal of this plan. Many of us don't like doing this nephew. Hestia and I both find this to be quite distasteful, but we were out-voted, and in the end this isn't truly a terrible deal…"

"So dad didn't agree with this… this… whatever the hell this is?" Percy asked wearily.

Hades shook his head. "No, he said he wanted no part of what we were going to ask, and as such he's decided to stay in Atlantis, in an attempt to boycott our decision."

Percy nodded in relief, glad that his father hadn't gone along with the blatant insult. It was certainly heartening to know that Poseidon still had enough sense to see that Percy was always going to be loyal to friends and family. It was his fatal flaw after all. How could he betray those who he cared about, his family in camp? His friends in Camp Jupiter and there on Olympus? How could he do that to them, even if they didn't care about him, he would still care for them. That's what a hero did after all.

Percy shook his head and let loose a wry, sardonic laugh. "You all… man I honestly can't believe this." He looked around the room and his face turned dour. "I refuse to be chained, I refuse to be the hound of Olympus. There's your final answer. No."

Zeus slumped slightly, as did many other Olympians. "You truly do not make things easy for us nephew. Are you sure that this is your decision?" The king asked, rising from his throne and towering over the young hero.

Percy didn't waver from his glare and nodded his head once, giving his answer to the Lord of the Skies.

"Then, as per my authority, I declare Perseus Ajax Jackson to be an immediate threat to Olympus. He is to be detained until he agrees to our conditions, and he is to be temporarily stripped of his blood-right. This decree will remain in effect up until the point when he concedes his folly, which will hopefully be soon." With that, he nodded to Hephaestus, who reluctantly waved his hand.

Chains made of Imperial Gold immediately broke through the marble floor of the council room, and wrapped themselves around Percy's arms and legs. The hero was too slow to move, and therefore never had a chance to actually move out of the way of the chains as they pulled him down onto his knees. The golden objects tightened their grip on his arms and the teen let out a small groan of pain. A final chain wrapped itself around his neck tightly, giving him just enough slack so that he could breathe, although there was no comfort in the act as he felt his adam's apple scrape against the metal.

"We are sorry that it had to come to this, but we need you to accept our offer. We simply want to protect ourselves and our children," Hephaestus said gruffly, though there was guilt detectable in his tone.

"After everything… this… is just… just like you…" Percy struggled to talk due to the chain around his neck. He snarled at the Olympians as they all looked away. "You'll have to… keep me forever then… because… I won't back down on this…"

"Place him in the cell, hopefully he'll come to see reason soon," Zeus said softly, before flashing out of the room. The rest of the gods followed suit quickly not wanting to see the hero that they owed so much to in chains for much longer. Only the God of the Forge stayed in the throne room, watching as Percy struggled against the chains.

Said hero was trying his damnedest to fight against the constricting metal links, though even he knew that he couldn't break out of the handiwork of Hephaestus. There simply was no question, especially since it seemed like he was slowly being drained of his stamina the longer the chains remained wrapped around his body. It wasn't long before Percy felt his head grow light, and his vision go slightly fuzzy. Recognizing the telltale sign of oxygen deprivation, the teen tried one last gambit by calling upon his power over water to try and cut through the chains. He grasped for the moisture in the air, and tried to congeal it so that he could use it as a razor sharp weapon, but he soon realized that he couldn't control the water.

Oh he could feel it, it was there in the environment, taunting him as it seemed so far out of reach. The water wouldn't move to his will, no matter how hard he tried to use his hydrokinesis. Mentally cursing the gods, he coughed a few times before turning his smoldering glare at Hephaestus, who did not flinch under the gaze.

"Apologies are in order young hero. However, we all recall the betrayals of so many demigods in the Second Titanomachy, and none of us wish to see you fighting against Olympus or your friends. We had hoped that you would have seen our offer in a more positive light, though as I try to place myself in your position I can see how it could be considered a slight instead… I ask that you forgive us," Hephaestus muttered, before standing up and walking over to Percy. He shrunk down to a height closer to six feet, and knelt down where Percy was bound.

"I must take you to our holding area, and there you will remain in these chains, which will slowly eat away at your divinity. Your father's powers shall not work while you are restrained by my creations. The chains are designed to slowly chip at your divine power, until it is all gone." Seeing Percy's distress in the teen's eyes Hephaestus raised a placating hand. "Your father will be able to re-grant you your birthright, and of course you will be made a god, and you will gain full divinity. However, we cannot have you trying to escape while you are being held. Meals will be provided twice a day, and the holding cell isn't all that bad honestly. You don't have to be a prisoner Perseus, just accept and this can end."

Percy blinked away tears from lack of oxygen, but managed a half-conscious snarl. He tried to shake his head, but the chain on his neck was far too constricting to allow such movement. In the end he settled for painful silence, leading Hephaestus to sigh. The last thing his saw before darkness encroached on his vision was the god crossing his arms and shaking his head. Then, it all went black.

* * *

 **(1) Reference to Avalon, the ever-distant utopia from Fate/Stay Night.**


	2. Looking Back

**A/N: Hello everybody to the next chapter of Burden of the Curse. I would quickly like to say thank you to those who followed and favorited my story, as well as to everybody who reviewed. I'm glad you enjoyed it to at least some extent. So anyway, this chapter was already half-done when I posted the first chapter, so it was finished earlier than it would have been if I had started after I posted Ch 1. As such it's coming out right now. I never really had a set schedule for uploading, and chapters are almost always in the works. Of course, how much I write depends on my mood and whether or not I have time due to my odd work schedule.**

 **Now, I just want to say that this story was rated what it was for a reason. Just keep that in mind, because in the future it will earn it's rating through both coarse language and violence. Then again, it's always hard to judge what people find too graphic for certain age groups and whatnot, but I just went with what felt right for me, and I would like to think I'm pretty free-thinking. Anyways, yeah, expect more violence and maybe some disturbing scenes in future chapters, and starting this chapter more colorful language when the situation would call for it.**

 **Finally, I've decided to put a review response at the end of each chapter, just to interact a bit with all you who took the time to leave a response to my story.**

 **TL;DR: Thanks to all who followed/favorited/reviewed. Rating will be earned starting this chapter forward, so be ready I suppose.**

2\. Looking Back, the Blue Pill Doesn't Seem so Bad _(1)_

Percy's eyes snapped open. He took in his surroundings, and groaned slightly as he looked around. He ran a hand through his hair and sat up on the mattress that he had been occupying. Looking at the 10x12 foot room, the teen scowled heavily as he recalled the past three weeks had indeed happened, and that it _still_ wasn't a dream. Somewhere, he still hoped that he would wake up in his cabin, instead of in the small cell. But for three weeks his hopes had been consistently dashed with each passing day.

The cell truly wasn't a terrible place to live. Sure he would have rather been about a million other places, but Percy was certain that it wasn't as bad as it could have been. There was a small mattress without a bed frame tucked in the far left corner, with a small desk next to it on the left wall. A wooden chair could be used in conjunction with the desk, though after some testing Percy realized that the chair certainly wasn't a comfortable amenity. On the right wall was a small wall shelf, which was barren since Percy had nothing to place on it. He had been given literally no notice that he would be imprisoned when he had been called to Olympus those twenty odd days ago. The final luxury the room afforded was a stainless steel toilet and sink combination, with a mirror right over it.

The son of Poseidon rubbed the chains that were tightly secured around his arms and ankles. As Hephaestus had said, the chains had been left on and were slowly draining Percy of the divinity that had been given to him due to Poseidon being his father. Everyday Percy felt weaker than he should have. Fatigue had been obvious, and no matter how much he slept it never seemed to leave him. Constant lethargy and the ache in his bones certainly made going through the days a trial for the war hero, leaving him exhausted by every day's end. Truly, Percy wasn't living his ideal life at the moment, feeling like he had somehow made a mistake in defending the Olympians for as long as he had.

' _Did it really lead to anything good?'_ Percy questioned silently, sighing as he mulled over the answer. ' _Of course it did. I saved people right? My friends and family technically, so of course that's good.'_

The Hero of Olympus shook his head and chuckled dryly to himself. He stood from the mattress and walked to the sink, where he turned on the tap and splashed himself with some water. After cleaning his face the teen looked into the mirror, checking over his features. He smiled bitterly, seeing that he really looked no different than he had the morning that he had been imprisoned. The only noticeable problem with his appearance would have been his oily hair, which was unavoidable since there was no way to shower in the room.

Fortunately for him, he must have had a naturally clean smell since there was no odor of dying skunk coming from him just yet. Idley he wondered if that was a perk of being a son of Poseidon, but then shrugged it off since that part of him would be gone soon enough.

Walking towards the middle of his room, Percy dropped to the floor and planted his hands on the ground with his body more or less parallel to the cold tile. He gave his arms some slack, then when his nose was practically touching the floor, he pushed himself back to his starting position. Repeating this motion several times, Percy noticed his muscles burning already with his face growing hot from the strain. He grit his teeth and continued to do his push-ups, until his arms finally trembled and started to buckle under the pressure. He stopped before he fell face-first onto the ground, something that he truly did not want to repeat now that his typical sturdiness was waning.

Grunting as he rolled over onto his back, the son of Poseidon let out a frustrated huff as he noted that he had only been able to do fifteen push-ups before reaching his limit. He wondered if the chains could affect his normal human strength, considering that he was certain that even without the perk of his half-blood strength he would be able to do at least thirty. Had be grown so reliant on his demigod skills that without them he was as defenseless as a newborn?

Probably.

"Fuck!" Percy couldn't help but let out his aggravation and anger. He stood up and shook his arms a bit to get the feeling of pins and needles out. He gripped his hair tightly as he tried to figure out what to do. At that point, he felt that perhaps accepting the Olympian's offer would simply yield the best results.

"But it's not what I want…" Percy muttered under his breath. "That's exactly what they want me to do. This is all some kind of sick bluff, and I'll call them on that shit…"

Suddenly, a bright light alerted Percy to a new visitor outside of the door. The only way he knew about the light was the small security window that was in the pure white security door. The window was very sturdy Percy recalled, as he had tested its durability the first day of his stay via direct fist. Unfortunately, it seemed that Percy was either too weak already, or the window was made of translucent titanium, or perhaps a combination of both seeing as Percy ended up dislocating his middle finger due to the action.

' _Putting that back into place was a pain… literally.'_

The door slid open, and Percy saw Athena standing in the doorway, looking especially grim. The goddess caught Percy's eye, but the teen decided not to speak. The visit wasn't a big surprise, considering various gods would swing by his room every couple of days to see if Percy had changed his answer. Each time they would be refuted by an increasingly irritated son of Poseidon.

Athena cleared her throat. "Ahem, hello Perseus. There's a situation that… we would like your help with…"

At that, the demigod quirked his eyebrow and leveled a harsh glare at the Olympian. "Oh really…?" Percy asked mockingly. "After locking me away here and basically giving me an unwanted ultimatum you're all asking for my help? Can't you handle things yourselves?"

The dark-haired goddess winced at the embittered tone that Percy spoke with. His voice was scathing and sharp, and the woman was under no illusion that there was any good will between the two of them. She couldn't very well blame the teen after all… technically it was the gods who made things escalate to the point that they were. It frustrated her slightly that she felt the urge to agree with the council in strong arming the Hero of Olympus into servitude, but there was nothing else she could think of doing given the apparent situation.

That in itself was another thing she hated. Athena was known for her strategic responses to all kinds of situations, as well as making logical and rational choices when in the midst of crisis. She was the Goddess of Wisdom, as per her title, and yet she had been caught completely flat footed when the new prophecy had been announced by Apollo. She had tried to find an appropriate response, but in the end she had failed to think of something that both secured the Olympians' safety, and was fair to the Hero of Olympus.

 _She had failed._

Those words struck her harder than she would care to admit. She had her pride obviously, and would not allow herself to wallow in self pity, but the thoughts never seemed to cease and leave her be. It had been a magnificent failure as well. Undoubtedly, the goddess' favorite daughter would be crushed at the knowledge that her paramour was in chains at the behest of the Olympians. In lieu of these thoughts, Athena was wracking her mind trying to find a good excuse to tell the half-bloods of both camps what the situation was and why they were holding the favored son of Poseidon in a cell.

' _Then again… the demigods seemed to be only slightly disgruntled at the disappearance of their savior. Even my daughter had taken two weeks to notice that Perseus had been missing. It's unlike her to be so unobservant.'_ Athena found herself questioning the odd behavior of the half-bloods.

One would have believed that there would be frantic searches for the lost Hero of Olympus, but they had only sent out a few search parties during the three weeks. Chiron had constantly appealed to the gods, in hopes that they would use resources to scour the land for Perseus. The goddess frowned at recalling that the council had all lied to the centaur, all except for Poseidon, who had not come out from the sea.

Of course, given the situation, the Goddess of Wisdom found no fault in the reaction. She knew that he was incredibly frustrated that he could do nothing, at least not without practically declaring war on the council. That, and he too was shaken by the prophecy, even if he didn't want to admit it. Deep inside him, Athena knew there festered thoughts of self-preservation, which prevented him from acting to save his son from an unfair Fate.

Athena snapped out of her own thoughts after realizing that the bitter hero was still staring at her expectantly, waiting for an answer to his semi-rhetorical question.

"Perseus, we do not begrudge you for carrying a certain… distaste for us Olympians. If it were any other situation, then we wouldn't have asked for your assistance, but in this case," Athena trailed off.

Percy sighed and shook his head. "Out with it then, what do you want?"

"Camp Half-Blood is under attack by a force of no less that five hundred monsters… led by Kampê."

* * *

 _Half-Blood Hill…_

Percy blinked after the blinding flash of light subsided. He cleared his eyes of the small dots that danced across them, and noticed that he was standing at the edge of the barrier of Camp-Half Blood. He stood near Thalia's pine, where most of the demigods of the camp were gathered, most of them gaining surprised expressions at seeing him again. He glanced around and saw that further down the hill torches burned in the dead of night, illuminating the area. The son of Poseidon nearly choked when he saw the contingent of monsters that had gathered at the base of the hill.

Hundreds of Greece's worst had seemingly gotten together for a bonfire, ready to feast on demigod flesh. As Athena had said, at the fore was Kampê, the Jailor of Tartarus, and without a doubt one of the most dangerous monsters that he had ever faced. During the Battle of the Labyrinth, it was only with Briares' help that she was slain. But now, in this battle, there were no Hekatonkheires to assist them in killing her. That in and of itself would prove to be extremely problematic.

The other minor problem was that he was still fairly weak. The chains around his arms and feet had been removed for the fight, but his strength could not be restored so easily. Athena had given him a few pieces of ambrosia and a long drag of nectar prior to his hasty departure. This thankfully gave him a bit more energy, but in the end Percy's divinity was still quite low, meaning that the food and drink of the gods had a reduced effect on him. With less godly blood in him, he could not afford to take too much damage in the upcoming battle. He had been warned that he would need to wait at least half a day before he could take any more of the food and drink of the gods, lest he burn himself to a crisp.

Finally, as if a switch was flipped, the senior campers flocked to Percy, asking a multitude of questions. Unfortunately, Percy was in no mood to explain, and as such irritably snapped at them even though he didn't want to.

"Shut up! Stuff came up, and now I'm not in the best mood or health. So let's save the questions for later if we make it out of this fight alive," He said bitterly, his eyes narrowing as he watched the monsters slowly advance up the hill. He walked forward and grabbed his pen from his pocket.

Riptide had been taken from him while he was being held on Olympus by the gods, but for this purpose Athena had granted him back his trusted weapon. All eyes were on Percy as he moved to the front of the gathered half-bloods. He noticed movement off to his side, and turned just in time to dodge a fist that was aimed for his jaw. The son of Poseidon backpedaled several steps and almost drew his sword, but paused when he saw a very irate-looking daughter of Zeus scowling at him.

"Woah! Calm down a bit Pinecone Face, you don't want to knock out your savior just when he's about to kick the bad guys back to Tartarus right?" Percy asked, his tone becoming more lighthearted as he registered that Thalia was with him. He looked behind her and saw most of the hunters of Artemis also gathered, standing close to one another and talking in hushed tones. Artemis must have teleported them all to help defend the camp.

"You disappear for weeks on end… and then you have the gall to come back and pretend like you don't owe me… us… an explanation!?" Thalia all but shouted. Her glare was withering, and if Percy had not been in a cell for the past three weeks he might have felt extremely intimidated by her expression. As it stood though, all he could do was sigh tiredly and offer a small gesture of apology.

"Thals, look, I'm sorry that I've been gone. Things got… complicated, and I've been kinda tied up with a few things lately. I promise, I'll explain things later, but right now we should focus on the army of monsters here to use our bones as toothpicks."

Seeing the exhausted state the Hero of Olympus was in, Thalia bit back an angry retort and she let her electric blue eyes run over her cousins form. He looked quite fragile. Instead of standing straight and proud, he had a slouch, as if he was fatigued from something. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was fairly disheveled, making it look like he was going through a mental breakdown. Overall Thalia felt Percy's energy was low, dangerously so if he were to be fighting against an army of monsters. The daughter of Zeus could only frown and nod, secretly wondering just what had happened to her cousin to make him seem so out of things.

"Fine, I'll let it drop since you look like shit. But I want an explanation, you had me worried Kelp Head," Thalia said, though she muttered the last part. Percy offered her a lopsided smile and placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to show his gratitude.

"I appreciate it Thalia, really I do. So, ready to kick some monster ass?"

In response, Percy got a devilish smirk as Thalia's eyes lit up. "Ha! Do you even have to ask Kelp Head? I'm always ready to lay the smack down on some poor souls. You just make sure to keep up. It would ruin your image if I were to outperform the 'Hero of Olympus twice over' in monster slaying."

The two cousins quickly got a third addition to their conversation in way of a certain son of Hades. Nico walked over to Percy and Thalia, giving both of them a soft nod, before he turned his attention to Percy.

"Yo Nico, how's it hanging?" Percy asked nonchalantly.

Nico made a face that showed his frustration but opted to answer nonetheless. "Oh you know, about to fight a monster army. Just another day in the life of a half-blood. Oh, not to mention the cousin I've been worrying over for the past two weeks finally comes back, then proceeds to snap at everybody as soon as he appears. To wrap things up he then goes ahead and acts like everything's cool by blowing off everybody except his cousin, who for some reason hasn't fried his ass like she said she would. Adding all these things together, yeah I'm doing just dandy, how about you?" The sarcasm practically dripped off of Nico's voice, though there was a hint of venom to it as he neared the end of his small tirade.

The son of Poseidon quirked an eyebrow at Thalia and questioned, "You were planning on frying my ass?"

Thalia grinned sheepishly and gave an awkward chuckle. "Hehe, yeah I was pretty pissed that you just up and left without even a note to tell us that you were alright. It kinda felt like the whole Juno camp swap thing again to be honest, and I was getting really angry with everyone, especially the gods."

"Yeah that's an understatement…" Nico muttered, but quickly started to cough when he saw Thalia turn and glare at him. Electricity crackled off of her fingertips, arcing between her digits and curling up her arm giving her a very dangerous look.

"I'm sorry I must have missed your comment, care to repeat it?" She asked, her voice turning sickly sweet, causing Nico to back up in a cold sweat at the threat of violence.

"Come on Thals, leave Death Breath alone, I know you missed me. I mean, who wouldn't?" Percy said, and while it was meant to be a joke, his tone turned slightly sour at his last statement. Both Thalia and Nico exchanged a look, with Thalia seemingly accusing Nico of something, while the son of Hades could only look guilty and pained.

Another figure approached the trio from behind a large group of campers, one who Percy recognized immediately. The blonde hair and grey eyes were a dead giveaway that a child of Athena was in their midst, add in the owl earrings and the curly hair tied in a ponytail and there was really only one suspect.

"Annabeth," Percy said, giving his girlfriend a crooked grin.

"Percy! Where have you been!? We looked for you… but it was just like you disappeared!" Annabeth's voice wasn't particularly angry, but there was an undertone of frustration laced into it. Her eyes narrowed at seeing his jaw clench and his fists ball. The daughter of Athena deduced that her boyfriend was hiding something, and that he didn't seem quite ready to share it with her.

Percy stared at the Goddess of Architecture, his sea-green eyes roamed over the features of her face, as if trying to drink in every nuance. The couple stared at each other, one with a sad and passive face, the other with a worried and irritated expression. There was tension in the air, with Thalia and Nico feeling increasingly awkward as time passed. Finally, after ten seconds, Percy moved forward and placed a hand on Annabeth's shoulder before he smiled softly and melancholically.

"Sorry for worrying you Wise Girl, but things got pretty complicated a few weeks ago. I promise I'll tell you, Thalia, and Nico the full story once we finish these bastards up."

Annabeth didn't look very happy, but she grudgingly nodded her head in consent as she heard the loud slamming of swords against shields. The four looked down the hill and noticed that the army was now only about four hundred feet away. While Percy had tried to calm his friends the monsters hadn't stopped their advance, even though they were still moving at a fairly sedate pace. It appeared that Kampê was in no hurry to kill the gathered demigods. Then again, given the size of her army, and the general composition, she probably figured that the pickings would be easy.

The resident son of Poseidon frowned as he saw Kampê stalking toward the crest of the hill with her scimitars drawn and ready. The monsters with weapons were creating various noises, no doubt as a scare tactic against the campers. Turning his head, he noticed that the campers had formed something akin to ranks in a wedge formation. He quirked an eyebrow as he watched more formations grow as campers were instructed by cabin counselors on what to do, and he noted that while not as disciplined as the Romans, the Greeks had come quite a way in the years following the Second Titanomachy.

"Annabeth, why are you here? You're a goddess now right? Aren't there laws that prevent you from interfering?" Percy asked without looking at her. His eyes were once more glued to Kampê, who had spotted him, and was currently scowling heavily.

"As a minor goddess, the Ancient Laws aren't as binding to me, not to mention that Zeus and many of the Olympians have decided to allow me to come to the camp's aid. I'm shielded from the eyes of Ananke, who created many of the Ancient Laws. While nobody knows if she is still around, her laws are still in place and are enforced through an automatic system. Not to mention I'm the Goddess of Planning, which doesn't just mean planning for architecture. This is _technically_ part of my domain, planning out some strategies. And if I just so happened to be attacked then oh well, guess I have to fight back," Annabeth finished with a small shrug.

"And what about the others?" Percy asked.

"Well, they don't really have the same loophole that I do. Jason would have been the only other one that _might_ have had an opportunity, but the gods weren't too comfortable testing out the theory. Trust me Percy, they wish they could help, but Ananke's laws aren't anything to mess with. Even Lady Styx's oaths aren't as dangerous as Ananke's system. Jason and Piper really wanted to be here, but if they interfered things would be bad for them. Leo is still off with Calypso somewhere, and he wanted to come when we I.M.'d him, but after a long explanation he agreed to stay away."

Percy furrowed his brow as he listened to Annabeth's explanation. It seemed odd, but he held his tongue as the monster army stopped moving, only a couple of hundred feet away from the top of the hill where the campers were standing. The pounding of feet and metal had stopped, and now there was only the crackling of the torches that the monsters carried to fill the air. The moon broke through the clouds and illuminated the area in silver light, showing that Artemis was currently watching. A sudden gust of wind blew through the area, and many torches lost their fire, plunging much of the monster army into darkness.

Finally, Kampê screeched, filling the air with a terrible sound that swept across the Greek ranks. Panic nearly set in for the newer campers, but Percy dashed forward, drawing Riptide and moving as fast as her could to cover the distance between himself and the most dangerous monster on the field. The son of Poseidon drew on his strength and slammed into the monster, their blades meeting as Kampê blocked his diagonal slash with her scimitars. The campers and monsters took a few seconds to watch the two exchange heavy blows, before a sudden war cry from Thalia and Nico broke the two opposing forces from their sightseeing. The armies charged forward, meeting each other on the hill, with the two hundred and seventy campers meeting the five-hundred strong contingent in bloody combat.

The air was filled with the sound of clashing metal and flesh being rent as the two armies fought viciously. Luckily for the half-bloods, there was seemingly no second in command for the monsters, so while Percy kept Kampê busy there were no orders being issued to the invaders. This worked in favor of the campers, and the battle-hardened counselors shouted commands to their cabins. Bolts of lightning fell from the heavens as Thalia called upon her birthright. Craters soon began to litter the hill as the surges of electricity crashed into the ground, and any monsters close to the detonations were immediately incinerated by the intense power.

Arrows filled the sky as both armies used their archers to whittle down the back lines, though the monsters simply couldn't keep up to the combined effort of the hunters of Artemis and the Apollo cabin. Gold and silver projectiles whizzed through the air in deadly arcs raining down death on the unprotected back line of monsters. Several Laistrygonians that had been in the back dissolved once the arrows struck vital spots not covered in armor. The monster archers returned fire and were bringing down a few campers with the volley.

As monsters surged forward to try and overwhelm the front line of Ares fighters, several celestial bronze cannonballs smashed into them. The balls crushed any monster that they came across and occasionally carried through to the monster behind the first.

"Load cannons!" Jake Mason, the head counselor for the Hephaestus cabin shouted loud enough for his relatives to hear. Sitting behind him were seven golden 19th century, 12cm artillery pieces. Children of Hephaestus followed their counselor's order and loaded bronze cannonballs into the cannons. The monsters that had been knocked down or injured were beginning to gain their bearings once more, and many of them staggered to their feet.

Jake held his hand up, then pointed forward. "All guns, fire!"

Once more the hill was filled with the loud cracks that signified the cannons firing on the monsters. The projectiles crushed the enemy forces, some of the cannonballs having been modified to explode into a multitude of fragments to cause more damage to clustered enemies. One particular ball landed close to a certain olive-skinned teen who was just finishing off a Hyperborean Giant.

Nico moved through the enemy lines in the shadows, appearing and disappearing at will and he swung his sword in wide, deadly arcs. The Stygian Iron blade made quick work of any monster that it came into contact with, cutting through armor and flesh with relative ease. Dust and blood covered the son of Hades, coating his black aviators jacket in a disgusting mixture that would be a pain to wash out. Nico ducked under the thrust of a dracanae's spear, impaling the monster with his own weapon through her undefended chest. Rushing forward, the teen stepped through the broken ranks of the front lines and quickly stabbed his sword into the earth.

A large fissure split the ground as the earth shook slightly. Some monsters that were nearby tripped and stumbled as the ground heaved and cracked. From the large tear in the earth, skeletal warriors rose, clad in all forms of military clothing throughout history. Nico raised his arm, and pointed at the back lines of Kampê's forces, giving the skeletons a nod. The newly resurrected warriors turned and marched into the fray, no concern over their own undead lives. The monster's began to panic as the new force came into play, evening out the army numbers a little bit. In total, Nico had summoned around sixty undead to serve him in the battle.

Grinning, the son of Hades parried a sword strike from a Telekhine, and disarmed the deformed seal. Swinging his sword in a large arc, Nico decapitated the monster before he heard another horrifying screech like the one that Kampê had made earlier. His eyes immediately darted to the source, and he grinned broadly at seeing that some of the snakes that made up Kampê's hair were now missing. Percy stood several feet away from the Jailor of Tartarus, and while he didn't even have a scratch on him, Nico could see the exhaustion in his form.

Percy was tiring, and Nico knew that sooner rather than later, a vital mistake would be made. The son of Hades watched as Percy and Kampê charged each other once again, and he grimaced as Percy was forced back by the flurry of strikes that were sent his way. Deciding that it would do no good to keep his eyes on Percy's fight, Nico surged back into battle, killing any monster that crossed his path.

* * *

All across the battlefield the sounds of war were heard by each combatant. The fighting had been going on for nearly thirty minutes, and both sides' moral was dwindling. The monster force was down to less than one hundred leaving the demigods with the numbers advantage, them having two hundred or so still ready for combat. The only problem was that the half-bloods were tired from the constant fighting. While the monster army had been cut down substantially; the sons and daughters of Olympus simply didn't have enough stamina to fight without end.

Percy ducked under a wide swing made by Kampê, barely avoiding being decapitated by the monster's poisoned scimitars. He backpedaled and brought his sword up, blocking another strike, before he let the sword slide across Riptide and pass him by completely. The son of Poseidon leapt forward and delivered a glancing blow across one of Kampê's scaly legs.

The creature let out a hiss of pain and anger before she reared back and tried to kick her opponent. Dodging to the left, Percy didn't notice Kampê swing her tail. He was caught off guard and slammed away by the thick appendage. Taking the opening, Kampê charged forward and brought her sword around, cutting a thin line across Percy's shoulder blade as the teen tried to roll away. Percy grit his teeth and pushed himself off the ground, avoiding the other scimitar as it was thrust where Percy used to be. The sword buried itself into the ground, and Percy backed up, catching his breath as he moved.

The fight with Kampê had been an arduous one, and he had only been able to focus on that one opponent the whole battle. Percy cursed the gods for having handicapped him as he looked around the hill. Several bodies of campers lay unmoving on the ground, causing a wave of guilt to crash into Percy. He bit his lip, and looked away from the carnage. His opponent had pulled her sword free from the earth and was now cackling softly as she slowly advanced on her foe.

"Perseus Jackson… you have grown weak. Your demigod scent has diminished greatly, though I wonder why?" The creature grinned maliciously as she moved forward. "Add to that, you haven't used your control of water once, and I have to wonder what happened to the greatest demigod to ever live."

Percy stood straight and pointed his sword at the monster. "I don't need my powers to kill a monster like yourself Kampê. You'll die here tonight all the same."

The Jailor of Tartarus let out a long withering laugh that drew the attention of many of the surrounding combatants, be they demigod or monster.

"So very confident, son of the Earthshaker, and yet I can sense that you are tired. You are near the point of full exhaustion, and soon you will fall to my blade. Your divinity has been stripped from you hasn't it? Otherwise you would have already taken some ambrosia and nectar to heal your wounds isn't that right?"

Percy grimaced as he noticed some of the campers looking surprised by the revelations that Kampê had spoken. The son of Poseidon snarled and leapt forward, feeling his strength reaching an all time low. Kampê turned quickly and knocked Percy to the ground with her tail. Lunging at the fallen demigod she slashed violently as Percy rolled away. Her sword met the ground and kicked up some dust, covering her opponent in even more grime than before.

Jumping to his feet, Percy looked up just in time to see Kampê bring her sword down across his chest. The Hero of Olympus let out a pained grunt as he stumbled back several feet, his free hand going to the grievous wound that ran down his torso.

' _Shit, the poison is making this way harder than I would like it!'_ Percy shouted mentally, cursing his weakness. Blood fell to the dirt below, dripping rapidly from the deep gash on Percy's chest. Taking a moment to glance down, the teen saw a reddish white color mixing with the green of Kampê's poisoned blades.

' _Into the bone… and that poison is now really close to the heart… I'm not gonna make it like this.'_ Percy thought grimly. Pain lanced through his body as he tried to stand up straight. His blood seeped through his fingers and soaked his shirt and upper arm. Kampê chuckled at seeing her adversary in such a bad spot. She advanced slowly on him, knowing that he was at his limit. Her poison would soon spread to many major internal organs, meaning that he had minutes at best.

Seeing that the monster was advancing, Percy felt panic creep into his body. His legs felt like jelly, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. His vision started to blur as the poison took hold over his body. He took two heavy steps backwards, and he fought against his body as it tried to shut down on him.

"Goodbye Perseus Jackson. Your death will elevate my status throughout the world, and I shall be known as the one who killed the greatest demigod to ever live!" Kampê's eyes were shining with twisted glee as she stalked towards the injured son of Poseidon.

Before Kampê could approach further a massive bolt of lightning struck her from above courtesy of one daughter of Zeus. Thalia stood with her spear raised and her shield leveled at the Jailor, her eyes glinting dangerously as she snarled at the monster. "I won't let you lay another finger on my cousin you bitch."

Percy dropped to one knee as a wave of pain washed over his bloodied form. He looked on with fear as Kampê turned away from him, and directed her attention to Thalia. He pushed with everything he had against gravity, feebly standing on weakened legs. His knees shook and his breathing was labored as he watched Kampê rush Thalia's position, forcing the hunter to leap away from a powerful cross strike. Percy gripped his sword tightly and pushed forward, feeling his entire body ignite with fresh fire. His muscles screamed in protest, and he felt as if his entire ribcage had been used as a punching bag for Briares.

Thalia moved nimbly as she dodged and weaved through a flurry of strikes from her newly acquired opponent. Her training with the hunters had done her well, and Percy had to begrudge her agility and speed. Of course, she was a child of Zeus, which afforded her several physical benefits. Thalia jumped over a particularly wide swing made by Kampê, and landed perfectly with one foot on the back of the scimitar. The blade dug into the ground and Thalia took the opportunity to thrust her spear into Kampê's gut.

The monster let out a roar of pain. She let go of the trapped scimitar and gripped the shaft of Thalia's spear tightly, even though it was still embedded in her. She swung her free sword and nearly cut through Thalia's arm if the hunter hadn't let go and backpedaled. Unfortunately, Thalia was caught off-guard by Kampê's tail, which swept her off her feet.

Percy watched with wide eyes as his cousin fell onto her back. Kampê lifted her sword, her face contorted with anger. Percy's world seemed to slow down as he watched the blade being pushed forward, ready to skewer the daughter of Zeus.

' _No… No… Nonononononono!'_ Percy's thoughts grew frantic as he watched the sword move. ' _I need to move. I NEED to save HER! PLEASE MOVE!'_

As if something broke inside of him, Percy felt his body burn. It was as if each nerve ending was dipped into magma. But while there was extreme pain, Percy could also feel incredible power surge through his body. His body felt terrible, and yet at the same time it felt amazing. He was dying, and yet he was living for the first time in his short life. Even though the son of Poseidon was relieved for the sudden second wind, he also already knew the feeling that was coursing through his veins. He knew the penalty he would incur for activating the curse for the second time.

Yes, as per instruction of the _monster_ he met in Tartarus, the curse could be used only twice before his body destroyed itself completely. The curse of power. A gift from a _monster_. A gift from a _savior_.

Already Percy could feel his muscles and cells ripping themselves apart. He felt his bones crack under the immense strain that the curse was placing upon him. He had no more time to think. He had to act, otherwise he would die for no reason. He would die without saving Thalia… his cousin… his lifeline. The one person he had relied on for the past year to make him feel a sense of normality. The one person he could say without a doubt still cared for him. The one person he just couldn't let down, not after everything she had done for him.

His sea-green eyes met his cousin's electric blue, and with that, Percy _pushed_ with every bit of renewed strength. He wouldn't fail her, not on his life.

* * *

 _With Thalia…_

The daughter of Zeus met her cousin's gaze just as Kampê was about to impale her. The hunter didn't know if her eyes purveyed the fear that she felt in that particular moment, but she sort of hoped that they didn't. Even if those were to be her last moments, she would at least try and remain strong.

As she thought back though, Thalia realized that she had a lot to lose if she were to die on the hill. Her mistress and the hunters would surely miss her. The bond that they shared was strong, and over the years Thalia had come to view the Hunt as her family, and where she belonged. No doubt that Annabeth would be devastated if Kampê turned her into a kebab. Guilt struck deep as she the lieutenant of Artemis recalled the promise of family and staying together forever that she, Luke, and Annabeth had all made in the past.

Of course, the man who she was currently gazing at would undoubtedly feel horrible about her death.

Thalia liked to think that she knew Percy Jackson well. They were cousins, closer to siblings, and they too shared a strong bond. Therefore, Thalia knew that her Kelp Head would blame himself for her own death. He would mope and deflate like a week old helium balloon. But she also knew that it would be deeper than that. Percy could probably never let her death go, especially if he were only a couple of dozen feet away. He would more than likely be destroyed by the guilt that he would impose on himself.

Thalia felt her heart ache at the thought of Percy being that miserable. She wanted to move faster than Kampê's scimitar and to finish off the monster herself. But as it was, she knew that she couldn't evade the incoming attack. Even though things were seemingly moving in slow-motion, Thalia inferred that it was one of those "life flashes before your eyes" kind of things that people talk about so much. She tried to reach for her spear, but there was basically no point in her mind. The blade moved, and Thalia closed her eyes, shutting out the sight of Percy's pained face.

' _You'd better not get hung up on me Kelp Head. I'd never forgive you if you drown in self-hatred.'_

Just as she accepted her own fate, Thalia heard something akin to a loud crack. Shortly after that, the sound of metal meeting bone and the squelching of tissue and soft material being cut and pierced.

Opening her eyes once more, Thalia could only do one thing at the sight before her.

"PERCY!" Her scream was one of anguish, filled with raw pain. All around the hill combatants stopped to stare at the one who had yelled out. Thalia stared, her breath was caught in her throat.

The once endless sounds of war had ceased completely. The hill was enveloped in a deathly silence as everybody took in the near incomprehensible sight that greeted them. Practically everybody from both sides knew exactly who was currently skewered at the end of Kampê's scimitar. Monsters knew him from stories of both wars, and some monsters had even died by his hand previously. Campers knew him for being their friend and leader through some of the toughest times that any of them had ever face.

Percy Jackson stood with a sword protruding slightly from his back, straight through his chest. Thalia couldn't see the face of her cousin due to him facing away from her, but for that fact she took slight solace. She couldn't bear the thought that he had just jumped right in front of a speeding sword for her, and yet at the same time it was something that Perseus Ajax Jackson _would_ do. Thalia felt a knot form in her throat as she heard a wail of absolute despair coming from her left.

Turning her head, the daughter of Zeus saw Annabeth thrust her bronze dagger into a stunned Hellhound, and sprint towards where the son of Poseidon stood. Off to Thalia's right she heard a cry of raw anger, and whipping her head around, she saw Nico cleanly bifurcate an Empousa as he too ran towards her and Percy's position.

As if on cue, the rest of the campers exploded in a mass of outraged battle cries as they attacked their opponents with renewed vigour at seeing their savior being impaled. The demigods' began to push the remaining monsters back with their furious attacks. Many of the cabin counselors also began to make their way to where Kampê was situated.

Thalia brought her head back to the front as she heard the deep hissing laughter of the Jailor of Tartarus. The monster was grinning at seeing her foe stuck by her own blade.

"So, the hero finally falls. How unfortunate, and without you around, the rest shall fall as well. Even if we die today, we shall reform and return to end-"

Before she could speak any further, Percy's hand, which had once hung limply from his side, shot up and gripped the monster's own tightly. The monster hissed with pain as his grip strengthened. Thalia's eyes went wide with shock at seeing Percy pull her hand closer to his chest, causing the scimitar she held to also move through him. Blood dripped from the edge of the blade and fell to the ground, but Percy seemingly ignored the fact that he was simply causing more damage to his body. Faster than the eye could see, his other hand arced forward, Riptide cleanly cutting deeply into Kampê's gut, spilling blood and entrails across the ground before him.

Thalia could only stare in awe as Kampê roared in pain and fury. She tried to pull her arm away, but Percy's hand held fast. Finally, he took a step forward, and rammed his sword into the bear head that was currently in place on Kampê's waist. He pulled the blade down, creating a deep gash that ran down the monster's lower body in a vertical fashion. More blood gushed out of the horrendous wound, and Kampê's pain filled screech was undoubtedly heard by all. With a grunt, Thalia pushed herself up and back, away from the massacre that was currently happening only a few feet away from her.

"I may die here Kampê, but you'll never win. Even if you reform, the proud half-bloods of this camp will never let you win. Now die, you fucking bitch." Percy growled, his voice filled with venom and loathing.

Thalia watched in fascination as Percy moved Riptide between himself and the monster, before he flicked his wrist and lopped off his foe's arm at the elbow. He then pulled the severed arm away from him, causing the scimitar still in its grip to go along. Throwing the appendage on the ground Percy vanished from sight, only to reappear with his sword plunged deeply through Kampê's head. He had somehow made it on top of Kampê's eight foot form, and had sunk Riptide into the monster's brain, killing it instantly. Jumping back, Percy faltered as he landed heavily, nearly collapsing the moment his feet touched the ground. Staggering around for a second, Percy stared at the pile of golden dust that had once been the form of Kampê, before succumbing to his wounds and falling down. Thalia rushed to him, forgetting that there was still a fight raging all around her as she cradled her cousin's head in her lap.

Pulling out a piece of ambrosia from her pocket, the lieutenant of the Hunt moved to place it in her savior's mouth. A hand stopped her, and she gave Percy a dangerous glare.

"What the hell are you doing you moron! Take the damn ambrosia and stop acting all macho!" Thalia said angrily, her eyes glinting with frustration and regret.

"Not your fault Thals, don't blame yourself." Percy croaked as blood seeped onto the ground below him.

Thalia's eyes went wide and she gripped his shoulder tightly. "Don't talk like this is over Seaweed Brain. Just eat the damned ambrosia so I can kick your ass for jumping in front of a sword for me."

Percy's eyes held deep pain as he looked at her own. Two tones of irides met each other, electric blue clashing against sea-green. Percy shook his head as much as he could, and coughed grimaced as pain lanced through his entire body. He felt his body slowly beginning to shut down on him, and suddenly, he couldn't feel his left arm. Slowly but surely, the curse placed on him in the Pit, and the one that he had just activated for the second time since then, was taking its payment.

"I can't eat more ambrosia Sparky. I'm not expecting to make it out alive."

"Shut up… you damn idiot," Thalia whispered hoarsely. Her eyes brimmed with moisture.

The sounds of battle died down around them, and Percy was able to lift his head enough to see that the dwindling monster army was retreating. Thalia noticed the invading army pulling back as well, and gave a soft sigh. The combined loss of a majority of the fodder as well as their commander must have broken what little moral the monsters had left. With the imminent danger gone, Thalia refocused all of her attention to the wounded son of Poseidon currently resting on her lap.

"Percy, why can't you eat the ambrosia, you haven't had any since you arrived," Thalia asked, her voice was soft.

He didn't deign to answer, and instead he directed his attention to the mass of campers that were rushing his position. Annabeth was the first to reach him, and she bit back a sob when she saw the grievous wound that had been inflicted upon her paramour. Percy was pale now, the pain was immense and constant, making it hard to breathe. He grunted as Annabeth put a hand on his chest in horror.

"WILL!" She screamed, causing the son of Apollo to break into a dead sprint. Will Solace looked at Percy's chest, and grimaced as he got down next to the Hero of Olympus. He placed his hands on the area, and channeled some power into his hands.

"What the hell were you thinking Seaweed Brain? Why do you have to always play the hero?" Annabeth asked as tears dripped from her face. Soon enough a large contingent of campers that were able to walk had gathered around. Curses went around the group as they saw Percy's condition.

"It's not my style… to just let someone die… if I can save them," Percy managed to say between staggered breaths.

"Come on… come on…" Will muttered, obviously not happy with the progress he was making. Thalia glanced worriedly at him, as did Nico and Annabeth. He grit his teeth as he poured more power into his hands, the golden glow growing brighter than it was when he had started. Sweat fell from his face as the exertion of healing such an injury began to take it's toll.

Groaning, Will stood up frantically and shouted to the sky, "DAD!"

Almost immediately, an immense flash of light went off and out stepped all fourteen Olympians, their faces a mixture of sorrow, pity, and frustration. Apollo quickly stepped forward and narrowed his eyes at seeing Percy's condition. He set his face into grim determination and was about to kneel next to the son of Poseidon before an invisible force slammed into him and all of the others by Percy. Those within a fifteen foot radius of Percy were affected and most everybody was sent flying back a couple of dozen feet, all except Thalia and Annabeth, who were the closest to Percy at the time of the push.

The two girls looked around in bewilderment as their friends were pushed back by something unseen. As they were distracted, the two didn't notice the dark red miasma encroach upon Percy's body until his cry of surprise brought their attention to him. Before they could react, the miasma engulfed Percy's form, and he disappeared from sight.

"Who's there!? Show yourself coward! And give me back my son!" Poseidon commanded angrily, his face distorted with anger. He gripped his trident so tight that his knuckles turned white. His eyes swept the hill as he searched for the one responsible for the mysterious activity.

A chuckle like that of the ever-present air resounded around everybody on the hill. It was not condescending, or malicious even, but one filled with slight amusement. The shadows seemed to lengthen as the moon cast its light down, the gathered forces of Olympus and half-bloods all being covered in soft light. Then, as if the weight of the sky was dropped, a massive amount of malicious intent fell onto the immediate area, covering those gathered. From the ground, a dark red-brown viscous substance began to bubble around everybody. The substance seemed to have a _**mud**_ -like quality to it in form, but nobody dared touch it or get close, even the usually inquisitive children of Athena stayed far away from any _**mud**_ **.**

"What is this…?" Artemis asked nobody in particular at seeing the substance. Instinctively, even she, an Olympian goddess, knew that to touch the _**mud**_ was simply a poor decision. She, as well as the other gods, took several steps away from quickly forming material.

"I've never seen this before, nor can I liken anything to it. However, we all feel the amount of pure hatred radiating from this… odd matter. I advise everybody to avoid this _**mud**_ at all costs," Athena spoke, her mind working quickly in trying to solve the situation.

"Whatever it is it's keeping me from my son. I will destroy it if need be!" Poseidon growled, his voice holding no shortage of rage. His aura grew heavier, and many gods felt the buildup of power that he was going through.

"Stay your hand brother! This material is dangerous, and quite possibly extremely volatile. We would do best to not mix our godly power with such an evil feeling substance," Hades interjected, placing his hand on Poseidon's shoulder to calm him. The sea-god slammed his trident down in anger, causing a small earthquake to shake the hill. He fumed, but held his power nonetheless, looking very peeved.

"Maybe we can slice this stuff up without our powers?" Ares contemplated, before being immediately shot down.

"No, this liquid is extremely dangerous. We must not come into contact with it," Hera refuted, shaking her head.

The _**mud**_ made no move to encroach upon the gods or demigods, though it still surrounded them, causing many to begin to panic. Thalia and Annabeth looked around for Percy, and noticed that they too were surrounded by the thick _**mud**_ that seemed to evoke a sense of reviled horror and unadulterated suffering. The evil that practically made up the _**mud**_ caused them to break out in a cold sweat, fear permeating their bodies.

"Enough of these games! Whoever has summoned this vile liquid; I command you to reveal yourself!" Zeus shouted, the authority in his voice seemingly leaving no room for argument.

As if responding to his commands, the _**mud**_ began to rapidly twist and undulate all around the hill. The substance rolled and twirled, swishing back and forth violently, before the mud began to move all to one spot, dozens of feet down the hill. As the _**mud**_ coalesced, many began to feel the sense of hatred and evil also strengthen. Many Olympians gasped when they saw the form of Percy reappear a few feet away from the mass of vile liquid that was rapidly forming a body. The shape of the body was humanoid, though there were no other details, only that of the dark red substance. No face could be seen, nor was there any sign of hands or feet. It simply had a vaguely human shape, like a chalk outline of a corpse that the police drew to show a victim's body at a crime scene. Except that this outline was filled in with the evil material that had once dominated Half-Blood Hill.

Percy sat up from where he was, and groaned so loudly that everybody could hear. He stood up, much to the shock of those present, only to draw his sword and point it threateningly at the dark figure before him. The figure tilted what could be assumed was its head, seemingly questioning Percy's choice of actions. Percy stood stoically, not moving a muscle in the presence of the mysterious entity. Finally, after several tense seconds that seemed to drag into minutes, the dark figure began to laugh boisterously. The darkness began to melt off of the body, and in the outline's place was a man standing with his arms crossed behind his back. He wore a magenta double breasted suit coat, along with a black vest and grey dress shirt beneath that. He left the top couple of buttons undone on his shirt, giving him a slightly relaxed air about him. His legs were clad in dark pants and he wore two toned cream and black dress shoes on his feet.

The man had warm brown eyes and medium length white hair. He had swept his hair to the left, giving his overall appearance one of a respectable business man, what with his outfit and clean-cut look.

"Percy, it's so good to see you once more," The man said, causing everybody to turn their heads towards the Hero of Olympus.

"Yeah not so much in my opinion. Admittedly I was hoping never to see you again," Percy said with a sardonic tint to his tone.

The man gave a low chuckle to the teen's harsh words, and shook his head in amusement. He walked forward, causing Percy to take an equal amount of steps back. Thalia watched with tensed shoulders as her cousin faltered in the presence of the stranger. Annabeth stood up next to the daughter of Zeus, and she gripped her shirt tightly, balling up the fabric. Both saw the tremble in Percy's hand as the figure approached him.

"Come now Percy, you can't tell me that you aren't thankful for the power I gave you. After all…" The sharply dressed stranger turned his eyes towards where Thalia and Annabeth were. He gave them a cold smile. "It did help you save two of the most important people in your world did it not?"

Zeus apparently was tired of being ignored, and he stepped forward before speaking. "Who are you? What business do you have with Perseus?"

The man turned his eyes toward the King of Olympus, and regarded him for a while before he deigned necessary to answer. "My business with Percy here is not really anything you should be interested in."

"Like hell it isn't, that's my son!" Poseidon shouted, pointing his trident at the man. "I can see that he is wary of you stranger, and as such I will fight with him if you so much as try and harm him."

The man smiled warmly at the sea-god and put his hands up in a motion of surrender. "I suppose a parent would always protect their child no matter the circumstance, but in this case your son signed something akin to a contract. I've simply come to collect his end of the bargain."

"What kind of contract? And you never answered who you are…" Athena interposed, her eyes trained solely on the mystery man. "You are obviously a god, going off of your entrance and the aura that you seem to exude. I, however, do not recognize you."

It was Percy who answered this time, his voice sounding somewhat defeated at his own words. "His name is Angra Mainyu, and he's here to collect my life, as per our agreement in Tartarus."

* * *

 **A/N: (1) Reference to the Matrix, where Neo is offered either the red pill or the blue pill by Morpheus. The blue pill would make it so that the story ended there, and Neo would be none the wiser to how deep the rabbit hole goes.**

 _ **Reviews:**_

 **spnaph- Thank you for your kind review. I do try my best to write a fairly aesthetically pleasing story, and I hope I continue to please!**

 **TheMag1c1an- I do hope that I you like where the story goes, and thank you for the review!**

 **PhantomSoul2015- Thank you.**

 **Son of Tyche- I appreciate your enthusiasm, thanks!**

 **OKIdon'tknowaName- Thanks for your input, I try to keep my grammar clean and my syntax nice and tidy. I'll be writing more for the foreseeable future!**

 **SignalFlux- It took a while for me to find a good title for this, but I figured that this fit best for the overall tone of the story, as well as signifying what Percy would go through. Thanks for the review!**

 **ZedricSOZ- Thank you. The following chapters will definitely be a bit faster paced, but I would like to think that they are still crafted with as much care as the first chapter was. I try to bring in the reader into the world that I write, so that they feel like they can actually be taken into my world. I find that the best writers often are able to do this fairly well, so I try to emulate them. Hopefully the future chapters live up to my scene painting talent!**

 **Guest- Thank you kind sir or ma'am. I will try to be original with this story, as it won't feature Chaos as I've seen him/her in many other stories. Add in the future conflict I'm planning and I would like to believe that this story won't be too cliche. Not that cliches are bad mind you, but I understand that some people are fed up with the over-saturation of Chaos stories where he/she gives Percy the power of the universe.**

 **Strife1234- Thank you, I hope you enjoyed this new chapter!**


	3. The Price of Power

**A/N: Hello dear readers! Quick author's note here to say thank you to all who've supported this story through Follows/Favorites/Reviews. Right, with that out of the way let me first say that this was probably my favorite chapter to write. Introducing two new characters who will both be integral to the story, I hope that everybody is satisfied. I will continue to build on both characters as the story goes, because we've only gotten a small glimpse into both of their true motivations. This chapter also hints at the looming conflict that is to come in the future, with the players starting to be revealed. With that said, let's continue with the story.**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own or make any money off of this work of fanfiction. All rights for the characters in Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus go to Rick Riordan and all who were involved in the creation of the novels.**

3\. The Price of Power

Shock was evident on everybody's face once Percy had spoken. The son of Poseidon growled when he heard the low throaty chuckle that came from the god standing in front of him. He steeled himself, and kept the sword pointed at the deity's face. He wanted to move back several more paces and examine his body, but he could already feel it. He had been healed, and Percy already knew that it was Angra Mainyu himself who had done so. That of course left one question unanswered.

"Why did you heal me if you've come to collect on our deal?" Percy asked warily, never letting his eyes wander far from the face of the god.

"Hm, why indeed? Well I never did say that I wanted you dead now did I?" Angra Mainyu queried with an amused tone tinting his voice. He smiled as Percy frowned, and held his chin with one hand, as if he was in deep thought. "When you think about it there are many ways to interpret our little contract."

"I don't care what dealings you've had with my son, but you will step away from him. Nobody here will allow anybody to take him from us," Poseidon spat, getting many nods from all the other Olympians as they prepared for a fight. The gathered demigods that still had strength also raised their weapons.

Angra Mainyu simply seemed to become even more amused by the actions taken by the Greeks. He nodded his head and snapped his fingers as if having an epiphany. "Of course you would! He's your hero after all, and who wouldn't want to treat their hero with the utmost respect and loyalty?" His answer was tinged with sarcasm and dark humor, and his eyes glinted mischievously in the low light.

The tension in the air multiplied tenfold once he had spoken, with many demigods glancing away from the god, and many Olympians biting their lips. Thalia looked around and noticed that practically everybody was looking guilty one way or another. She saw Annabeth twist the fabric in her hands violently and narrow her eyes at the god who had spoken.

"What they hell are you talking about?" Thalia asked boldly as she stepped forward, having recovered her spear and levelling it at the Zoroastrian god.

"Ah, Thalia Grace, ever the confident one aren't you? I'm not surprised that you feel out of the loop with my little inside joke there. Would you like me to educate you in what poor Percy here had to go through for the past year. I think you'll find the past month especially interesting," Angra Mainyu said playfully, and there was a hint of glee in his eyes. The look unnerved the daughter of Zeus, and before she could speak up somebody else took over the conversation.

"Before anything else, I'm sure I speak for all when I ask if you truly are Angra Mainyu," Athena said.

"Actually, I think a better question is who the hell _is_ Angra Mainyu," Nico stated, causing many campers to grumble their agreement.

"I'm pretty sure it's a typo for Angry Mayonnaise," Percy joked, eliciting a chuckle from those gathered, and even from the god himself. The demigod stepped back though when Angra Mainyu stomped his foot on the ground, causing a mass of _**mud**_ to appear from out of nowhere. The god stepped into the _**mud**_ and slowly began to ascend as the liquid carried him up. Soon, there was a fifteen foot platform made up of moving _**mud**_ that held aloft the suit-clad deity.

The Olympians and demigods all stared at him as he stopped rising. Angra Mainyu held out his hand in a placating manner, although all that seemed to do was set the Greeks on edge. Smirking slightly he turned his attention to Nico, who had questioned who he was. Percy prepared to leap into action in case the Zoroastrian decided to attack Nico for his impudence.

"You wish to know more about me young one? Very well I shall tell you a bit about myself. I am Angra Mainyu, otherwise known as Ahriman, and I am the monument to all of your sins." The god paused to let his words sink in dramatically before he continued his explanation. "I am the Zoroastrian God of Evil, many believe me to be All of the World's Evils, as well as the combined Weight of Humanity's Sins. I come from my native lands of Persia, and am a deity that can still recall the days of the primordials of the Greek religion. Now, they are all but forgotten, off slumbering somewhere so as to not affect the world in drastic ways. I have an equal and opposite brother, Spenta Mainyu, who I wish to crush when the time comes. The one who created me… Ahura Mazda… faded long ago, and as such left me to constantly fight with Spenta Mainyu over whether or not humanity was more good than evil."

He let his words stand in the air, and smiled at the sight of the campers who looked ghostly pale at his words. Ahriman cleared his throat and glanced at the Olympians who also seemed slightly taken aback by his proclamations. He gave them a knowing nod, and was about to speak when Clarisse interrupted him.

"Who is Spenta Mainyu?"

Angra Mainyu frowned when she spoke his name, though he didn't seem angry. "He is a creation of Ahura Mazda, one that he uses to bring goodness and light to the world. If I am All the World's Evils, then Spenta Mainyu is All the World's Good. He is my antithesis, my greatest rival in this world, and somebody who I must grudgingly respect for having fought me for so long. Through Spenta Mainyu, Ahura Mazda projects his own goodwill onto his subjects, or at least that's how it was before the _Wise Lord_ went and faded away. Now… well now let's just say things are going to get crazy," He finished with a satisfied grin on his face.

Turning to Athena, the God of Evil acknowledged her previous question. "You asked me if I was truly Angra Mainyu, how do you wish for me to prove that I am? Shall I kill these demigods gathered here to prove to you that I am evil?"

The Goddess of Wisdom widened her eyes at the implication and shook her head quickly. "That isn't what I meant… I apologize if I offended you, but you must understand that your religion was thought to have faded long ago. So you see the skepticism that could arise…"

At her explanation Ahriman nodded his head thoughtfully. "Yes, I can see your reasoning. However you should know this. Zoroastrianism is perhaps the oldest monotheistic religion in the world, and is still practiced today, if only by a few thousand loyal followers. The issue with your belief however was thinking that my domain wouldn't be enough to sustain me. How many people are alive in the world right now my dear Goddess of Wisdom?"

Athena quickly thought the question over before responding, "About seven billion four hundred million."

"Exactly! Now allow me to quickly make a list of what people consider to be evil to some extent. Some people obviously think differently, but no matter what all of these are considered to be evil by at least one person in the world today. Murder, arson, rape, sexual assault, child abuse, neglect, adultery, premarital sex, cheating, stealing, lying… The list can go on and on, but I'll go ahead and cut it short there." The God of Evil waved a hand dismissively in front of his face. "So, tell me then… how many people out of those seven billion do you believe have never committed one of these acts. Oh sure, murder, arson, and rape are all fairly extreme, but what about lying? How many people here on this hill can say that they've never told a lie? How many can claim that they have never cheated or stolen something?"

There was a long pause, and the hill was silent as Angra Mainyu looked around at the campers and gods. He stared at each of them in the eye, most who met his gaze looked away almost immediately. His words sunk deep into the minds of those gathered, and they all realized what his small rant meant.

"So you see, as the God of Evil and bearer of All the World's Evils, it is only right that I should live on for as long as my domain remains. My power has only increased as time went on. Wars, atrocities committed, evils partaken in, and sin embraced. As long as evil resides in the hearts and minds of sentient life so too shall I remain. There is no place to hide from me, no place to run from me, because I will always be festering just beneath the surface. Evil has been around for as long as life has had morals, and will stay for a similar length of time. I hope this answers your question."

With his part said, the Zoroastrian deity allowed the _**mud**_ to descend, taking him along with it back to the ground. His feet touched the dirt, and he placed his hands behind his back once more, relaxing as he walked forward towards Percy. The son of Poseidon had lowered his sword during the long speech that Angra Mainyu had given, but upon seeing the god approach, he lifted it back into a defensive position. Angra Mainyu raised his hand as he strode forward and before anybody could act a series of runic symbols floated through the air, encircling both the God of Evil and Percy. The symbols began to flash bright red before a translucent barrier formed around the two, effectively trapping the duo in a dome-like construct of energy.

"So sorry, but now that the history and ethics lesson is over, I really must finish what I came here to do." The smooth voice of Ahriman rang out across the entire hill, filling the ears of all those present. The way he spoke was calm and cool, as if he was a suave salesman trying to make a deal sound extra lucrative.

As he took another step towards the Hero of Olympus, a blast of blue-green energy slammed into the barrier that surrounded them. Ahriman glanced at the gods with some amusement twinkling in his eye. He gave them a wave and saw Poseidon twitch at seeing his attack being blocked. The gods all looked toward one another, and nodded in assent, seemingly having come to some form of agreement. Soon, all the Olympians had gotten their form of weapon out, and were glaring at Angra Mainyu. Zeus raised his bolt and took aim at the barrier.

"This will be your only warning Ahriman. Leave this area, and forget about your contract with Perseus Jackson, lest you feel the might of the Olympians today," the King of the Sky stated brusquely. The master bolt crackled with nearly unbridled power as it responded to its user's influx of energy. Electricity arced off of Zeus' form, occasionally hitting the ground or nearby objects, showing that his patience was wearing thin.

The other Olympians took stances that gave the impression that they were ready to leap into battle at a moment's notice. Noticing that their parents were getting ready for a potential fight, the half-bloods too stood tall and prepared to follow suit.

Ahriman, for his part simply cocked his head to the right. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head softly. "Please, do you think that I would really just come here without knowing just how much I can accomplish. This barrier will be more than enough to hold you at bay while I conclude my business with Percy. You should really just sit back and take a load off. Besides, I figured you all would have actually preferred this outcome? I mean… he'll be out of your hair, and you won't have to fuss over that little prophecy anymore," Ahriman said with a shrug.

At that, the half-bloods paused, sending their parents confused looks. Thalia and Annabeth were among those people that sent their respective parents a questioning glance, though Thalia almost felt like she didn't want to know. But if it involved a whole new prophecy, then it was definitely not something that she could simply ignore. Annabeth's thought process was of a similar kind, though she knew that she probably could not participate actively in the prophecy due to her being a goddess.

"What prophecy? Stop speaking so cryptically damn it!" Thalia shouted, grinding her teeth and showing her frustration, much to Angra Mainyu's content.

The Olympians all looked at each other with worry evident on their faces. Percy himself was tense at what Ahriman was seemingly about to reveal. Just as the God of Evil opened his mouth, Percy pushed himself forward, and delivered a quick slash that targeted his foe's face. For his part, Ahriman deftly moved slightly to the right, and let the sword completely pass him by. Before Percy could do anything else, Ahriman delivered a punishing punch to the hero's chest.

Percy was sent hurtling off to the side, and he landed against the translucent barrier with a heavy thud, slamming his head painfully against the immovable object. The teen gasped for breath and coughed several times as he tried to recover before Ahriman could go on the offensive while he was down. Pushing himself to his feet despite the pain and shortness of breath, the Hero of Olympus prepared himself for another attack, only to be knocked off his feet as the earth shook.

Angra Mainyu laughed as he felt the combined power of the gods crash into the barrier that he had placed. There was a massive explosion as the godly blasts ended, with dust and smoke being kicked up around the area, completely covering the hill. Most of the demigods had fallen to the ground due to the massive shock wave that rocked Half-Blood Hill.

The smoke began to dissipate after some time, revealing that the barrier still held strong. Ahriman had stopped laughing and was currently shaking his head with thinly veiled joviality. "Oh my, oh my. You take my word for granted and then go and almost cause an explosion big enough to kill all the demigods in the area… truly a deplorable act on your part."

The Weight of Humanity's Sins gave the Olympians a sly wink and gave them a look like he was scolding a child. "You shouldn't go around throwing that much power out. You'll need a lot more to damage this barrier. Though in doing so, you'll more than likely wipe out Camp Half-Blood and a third of Long Island as well."

Zeus grit his teeth at the proclamation, but he stood down, knowing that Angra Mainyu was correct in his observations. The hill grew quiet once again as all the gods followed their king's lead, though all of them seemed discontent with the way things were playing out. Poseidon himself was trembling with barely restrained fury, and it seemed that he would explode any moment. Fortunately for the eastern seaboard, Hestia was holding his arm and whispering words of gentle comfort in his ear. The Goddess of the Hearth had assumed a form that appeared around eighteen years old, and so she was able to offer more support to her belligerent brother.

"I'm surprised that the minor gods of Olympus haven't come yet. You would think that they would be down here trying to help the one who helped give them some form of recognition and respect," Ahriman mused more to himself than anyone else, though his eyes did flicker over to where the Olympians stood.

A flash of light indicated a new godly arrival to the scene, and once it died down the figure of Hecate stood scowling. She clenched her fist and turned to Zeus, who was looking at her expectantly.

"I'm sorry my lord," the Goddess of Magic began. "But it seems that the barrier he has up is able to resist even my power. Not even with Tyche and Nike by my side was I able to carry Perseus away. If our combined power can't overcome Ahriman's power…"

"I see, so you were working in the shadows then? How very like you Hecate, though for Nike to be doing the same thing? How interesting," the God of Evil gave the newly arrived goddess a small smirk.

"Nike was opposed at first, but she too understood that if Perseus was at risk, then we would need to act unconventionally to save him," Hecate responded curtly.

"Hmph, yes I suppose that is true. Well it doesn't matter anymore now does it? As I already stated, the power needed to break through this barrier would level much of this area, and kill numerous demigods and mortals alike. Now I'm not one to judge or anything, but that would be a pretty terrible thing to do now wouldn't it?"

Angra Mainyu turned to Thalia and addressed her directly. "You asked me to stop speaking cryptically yes?" At the girl's uneasy nod, the deity grinned brightly. "Very well, I'll be extremely blunt then, how's that?"

Making a wide sweeping gesture with his arms to the ruined hill, he spoke loudly and accusingly. "This could have all been avoided, if it were not for the Olympians taking Percy away for the past three weeks, and stripping him of most of his divinity. He was held in a cell on Olympus for the duration of those weeks, all because the gods were frightened of the new prophecy that was announced the very day of Percy's imprisonment. Percy never just up and left the camp… he was taken and locked away from you all."

Silence reigned.

The shuffles of the immortals were the only things to be heard as the seconds passed by. The shock seemed too great for many of the campers, who were looking at the Olympians with disbelief. The atmosphere had become far more tense than ever before. On top of most of the Greeks being extremely wary of Angra Mainyu, most seemed to be also staring expectantly at their godly parents, waiting to hear the truth.

"Is… is that true mom?" A voice rang out that Percy recognized as Katie Gardner. The son of Poseidon ventured to turn around and look at the gathered demigods who were all now staring at Demeter. The goddess in question looked flustered that she was being singled out. She looked at her daughter's distraught face, and bit her lip.

None of her fellow gods stepped in to say anything, waiting to see what path the Goddess of the Harvest would say to her child. She looked around, hoping to find somebody to help her answer the very damning question, but found that nobody would meet her eye. She huffed in annoyance, and looked toward her daughter, gaining a guilty expression before she finally spoke. When she did speak, her voice was low and apologetic, and Percy could tell that it was not only meant for Katie, but for him as well.

"What Ahriman says is true. But we didn't want to do it… we just… we were scared of the prophecy, and we wanted to secure Perseus' loyalty to us and to you all as well! We… we…" She trailed off at the expression of sadness that her daughter had adorned.

"They acted brashly and chained up the Hero of Olympus when he refused to swear his fealty on the Styx and be granted godhood. The chains nullified his demigod abilities, and they drained him of his divinity." Ahriman stated nonchalantly while he picked at his fingernails as if he had something better to do.

"Enough talk." Percy gruffly cut in, his face looking exceptionally grim. "I don't know what your plans for me are, but I won't go with you willingly."

Angra Mainyu nodded patronizingly as he looked at the son of Poseidon. "I would expect nothing less from you of all people Percy. Come then, I shall fight you for your freedom."

At that, Percy's eyes lit up a bit as he stared at the God of Evil. He seemed both hopeful and bemused at the same time. "Wait, my freedom?"

The evil deity smiled slyly and chuckled. "Yes, freedom from the contract. Land a killing blow on me, and I shall give you your freedom. You can go back to being chained up on Olympus if you'd like," Ahriman said with a silly smile on his face that did nothing to relay the dark truth of his words.

"Or perhaps you could go back to that camp where you will go back to being ignored and reviled by those you call friend and family. Would you like that better? You know what they see you as Percy? They see you as a weapon. The sad little half-bloods and the 'mighty' gods of Olympus don't care for your wellbeing except for when there's a problem. They groom you during times of war, and then they lock you away in a room so they don't have to look at the reminder of all the pain from conflict." Ahriman looked at Percy with something akin to pity, before he glanced at the gods and demigods.

"They are ashamed to look at you Percy. You are just another cog in the war machine that will always turn. You are a sword, one that is taken out in times of conflict, and then left to rust due to neglect after all is said and done. Is that the kind of life you would like to return to Percy? The campers avoid you like the plague, and the only solace from the pain that you are burdened with is when the daughter of Zeus visits you herself."

Percy hefted his sword, and reared his hand back. His eyes blazed with fiery passion as he moved forward, cracking the ground as he pushed off with his legs. The anger that had been building up in him had finally started to leak, and with that anger came the power to activate the curse that was sure to kill him. The curse that Ahriman himself had placed on the son of Poseidon. And now Percy would use that very curse against the God of Evil to it's fullest extent.

With wide eyes, Angra Mainyu was only _just_ able to move his body a few inches to the left, avoiding the vertical strike that would have split his head in two. Instead, Anaklusmos ripped through his shoulder area, cutting through the bone, muscle, and tissue that resided there. The blade didn't stop once it met resistance though, and instead it cut past the shoulder and down to the armpit, before it exited the Zoroastrian's body completely.

Angra Mainyu stumbled back as his right arm dropped uselessly to the floor, and his eyes widened even more as he had to bend backwards to avoid a horizontal strike that would have gone through his neck. The deity snapped back up and silently summoned a wall of _**mud**_ to separate himself from the belligerent hero that was trying to kill him. Percy jumped back as the _**mud**_ shot forward in an attempt to smother him. While he wasn't sure exactly what the liquid was, he was certain that touching it would be quite a large mistake.

As he backpedaled, the teen was surprised when the _**mud**_ moved and rose into the air, hovering for a few seconds. Soon, the unidentified substance started to reform into spear-like objects about five feet in length each. Percy gulped as he saw more and more _**mud**_ spears form in the air.

"You might as well surrender now. That first strike was very ferocious and quite surprising. I see that you can still use my curse, but surely you know that in your condition you can't keep it up for long. I healed only your body, you still lack most of your divinity." Ahriman stated, his voice was calm even though he was missing an arm. Percy noted that he wasn't bleeding at all, even though he had such a severe wound.

The Hero of Olympus merely charged the deity once more, hoping to close the distance before the spears could be fired. The power of the curse was coursing through him, and he could feel his raw physical ability being elevated to levels that he hadn't dared try even in the Pit. According to Ahriman, the more power he pulled from the curse, the faster his body would atrophy. Not an ideal gift, but it had saved his life in the Pit, and by extension Annabeth's life as well. It had once again helped him in the fight against Kampê in saving Thalia. Now he needed it once more, but he knew that he would have to draw on the as much power that he could without his body dropping dead within the minute.

Before Percy could get within twenty feet of the God of Evil, all of the _**mud**_ spears launched themselves at him, forcing the teen on the defensive. He swung and slashed at any spear that neared his body, cutting through the hardened substance with some difficulty. Unfortunately, once the spears were broken, they reverted to the liquid state that they had been in to start, which then splashed onto Percy's body.

Almost immediately Percy felt the _**mud**_ begin to assault his mind. He faltered and was nearly impaled by the last spear that had sailed towards him. The hero sidestepped and let the spear miss him by a foot. Percy shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of the vile images that were currently plaguing his mind. He felt the pain of the world on his shoulders as all of the emotional torment that was being felt around the world slowly began to pile onto him. He felt awful, like somebody had sapped him of all of his willpower to continue fighting. He felt disgusted by humanity's sins, and he felt the hopelessness of continuing to live in the corrupted world.

He saw flashes of the worst sins that humanity had to offer, all throughout history he could see the atrocities that were committed. The mutilation of innocents in grand cities that were being sacked by invading armies. He saw the abuse of men, women, and children by soldiers of different countries and different religions. The bodies that burned in large piles and mass graves, bodies of people who were put to the sword. The gallows that held struggling victims as they gasped for air. The fires that spread and consumed without reason and without prejudice, destroying houses and eating through human flesh. The charred remains of the unfortunate souls who were immolated alive.

Percy stumbled and nearly fell face down as he came back to his senses. The teen shivered as he wiped the horrific images from his mind, ready to refocus his attention on the God of Evil that was smirking at him. Staggering on his feet, Percy growled and rushed Angra Mainyu's position. Dodging the first flurry of strikes, Ahriman moved back as Percy pushed forward, nearly thrusting his sword into his opponent's chest. Percy didn't know if his foe was even trying during the fight, but in all honesty he didn't care. All he needed to do was land one good strike on a vital spot, and hope that the deity would honor his word.

' _Fat chance of that happening. He's the God of Evil, of course he would renege on the agreement.'_ Percy thought to himself bitterly as he kept on swinging Riptide around. The blade nearly made contact several times, but never did connect in a solid blow with the deity.

Percy crashed his foot into the ground, and decided to do something a bit unexpected. He spun on his heel and threw Riptide with all of his strength at Angra Mainyu. The god dodged his weapon as predicted, but Percy jumped forward while scooping up some dirt in his hand. Ahriman hadn't seen the action, and so when he came back to face Percy and not the sword, he was surprised by a face full of sediment. Blinded for the moment, the God of Evil was taken off guard by the fist that slammed into his face.

As he reeled back, the god was met by the bottom of Percy's foot to his knee. Ahriman felt his kneecap break under the immense strain of the blow, and the bone snapped back leaving his leg completely useless. Before he could fall forward his chin was struck by a bone-crushing uppercut delivered by his foe. Ahriman was lifted clean off of his feet and sent hurtling backwards. Percy took this time to dash to Riptide, which had landed by the barrier after having bounced off of it. He picked up his trust blade and turned back towards his injured opponent.

Ahriman was lifting himself off the ground with the _**mud**_ and was currently covering his injured body with the vile substance. He was soon enveloped in the liquid completely as if formed a cocoon around the God of Evil, obscuring him from view entirely. Percy rushed towards the cocooned god, and tried to swing his sword at the layer of _**mud**_ , but he was stopped mid action by a wave of _**mud**_ that rose up out of the ground. He planted his foot and twisted out of the way of the evil substance before it could come into contact with his body. Percy had to move back in order to escape the liquid, and therefore lost the opportunity to attack the injured god. The wave receded and joined with the cocoon that Ahriman had created.

Just as Percy was about to charge again the enclosure that Ahriman had gone into burst open sending _**mud**_ flying outwards in all directions. Percy was soon doused in the abominable material. He clutched his head as more visions of horrible acts came to his mind. He felt the entire history of violence permeate every inch of his body, like an infection running rampant. The Hero of Olympus fell to one knee as bouts of pain shot through his body and brain. Cradling his head, Percy opened his eyes and was greeted with the sight of a dark room instead of the battlefield that he used to be on. Children lay on the floor, each were emaciated to the point of being skeletal. The floor was littered with blood and excrement of all kinds, leaving Percy gasping for clean air as the foul smell forced its way into his nostrils. There were a few children hunched over another prone figure, one which was not moving. The teen lost the contents of his stomach when he saw that the children were ripping out muscle and tissue from an already decomposing corpse, and stuffing the meat into their mouths.

Blinking away tears, Percy opened his eyes to once again find himself on Half-Blood Hill, tears streaking down his face. He recalled what he had seen, what he had _smelled and felt_ , and he vomited once more, this time in reality and not in the vision. With his stomach empty, the son of Poseidon looked up from the ground and glared daggers at the God of Evil. What he saw made the teen feel even worse than what he already was.

The god had healed himself, undoubtedly due to being in the cocoon of _**mud**_. Angra Mainyu stood with his once severed arm firmly back on his body. His knee also looked like it had never taken damage. Hell, even his suit was in pristine condition, as if he hadn't even been fighting for the past several minutes. The evil deity gave Percy an appraising look.

"Impressive that you would still be standing after having been covered in so much of my burden. Congratulations are in order Percy. You've done outstandingly so far." The god paused and gave his foe a prideful smile. "I knew I made the right choice when I offered you power in Tartarus. To not only use the curse for the third time, but to also remain relatively unaffected by my burden. Quite incredible."

"What the hell are you talking about? Your burden?" Percy asked, noting the downturn on his opponent's face.

"This substance that you see here," the god gestured to the _**mud**_ with his arm. "This is my burden. This substance is actually the physical form of sin, curse, hatred, and evil. It is what resides within all of us, and that which usually cannot be seen. It manifests itself in me to use as a weapon, and at the same time it slowly poisons my body and mind. This is my own burden, the burden of carrying the weight of humanity's sins."

"But you're able to summon it from basically anywhere, not just your body." Percy said warily as he watched Angra Mainyu closely.

"I practically radiate evil and malicious intent. It's everywhere in the air where I go, I literally taint the world when I walk freely. From that stage I simply have to manifest my burden so that it becomes solid. Think of it as a gas going to a solid. I believe the scientific term is deposition. Of course I can also make it liquid, which is the form I usually manifest it in. Very versatile that way."

Percy was about to break into a dead sprint and close the gap that Angra Mainyu had formed, but the deity had already read the move, and he held up a hand that caused Percy to falter where he stood. The wind rustled the leaves of a few nearby trees. The barrier still stood, unharmed by anything, leaving most of the gods and demigods outside to bite their lips nervously. The battle that had been taking place in the impenetrable enclosure had been fairly intense to say the least. At first it had seemed that Percy had the upper-hand, but with Ahriman having recuperated practically to perfect health, things were looking grim for the Hero of Olympus.

Many of the campers had been listening to the conversation that Percy and Ahriman would occasionally have, completely rapt. They were all enthralled by how Percy was managing to move and attack as incredibly fast as he was. Even with his previous injuries, which had apparently been healed, he still managed to inspire many of the campers with his power. He was their hero after all, and many of the newer campers could now see why he was talked about in hushed whispers by the elder campers. They saw a machine on the field, fighting with an indomitable will to win.

"Why do you continue to fight for them? They don't want you. Even your own lover hardly casts you a glance. When was the last time that the two of you did anything that could be considered even remotely intimate? Have you even held her hand in the past two months?" Ahriman asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Percy grit his teeth and charged the god. Ahriman deftly ducked and weaved through the sword strikes that were sent his way. The God of Evil chuckled as Percy overextended, and stepped inside of the hero's guard. The deity delivered a vicious elbow to Percy's chin, sending the young man back. Percy was then pushed back on the defensive when Riptide was knocked out of his hand. A veritable dance of fists and kicks was then initiated by both parties, though it was obvious that Angra Mainyu held the advantage in this aspect of combat. Even so, each of Percy's blows was magnified by the curse that was still active.

While Ahriman had more skill, and was able to land more blows, none of them really managed to leave any major damage on the teen. Percy on the other hand was having trouble landing many blows, but when they did land Ahriman was forced back and was left with cracked bones and bruised skin. The God of Evil didn't seem to mind very much however, if his throaty chuckle was anything to go by.

Percy moved forward and grappled with his opponent, putting one hand behind Angra Mainyu's back and whipping his leg up into the god's stomach. Ahriman was knocked back by the knee, but recovered faster than Percy expected and leapt at Percy with unmatched speed. The teen had just enough time to raise his arms to block a devastating straight kick that sent him flying back into the barrier. As the air left his lungs Percy felt his pen return to his pocket. Just as his foe charged forward, the hero uncapped his pen in his pants facing away from his own body. The blade grew into the three-foot xiphos that had become iconic, and impaled Angra Mainyu just as the god arrived. Anaklusmos tore through the evil deity's stomach and stuck out of his back, just inches away from the spine.

"Oh ho! Good trick there Percy! You make me proud to know that I chose you out of all other people in this day and age!" Ahriman exclaimed with pride. He had a happy twinkle in his eye, a look that unnerved Percy since the two were literally only six inches apart.

"Personal space dude," Percy said as he reared his fist back and smashed it into Ahriman's face, getting a satisfying shifting feeling. The god flew back and off of Percy's sword, letting the son of Poseidon catch his breath.

"Good job Fish Face, go kick his ass!"

Percy turned and looked at the one who had spoken, and smiled when he saw that Thalia was grinning at his victoriously and giving him a thumbs up. Percy gave her a nod, and caught Annabeth's eye as well. She gave him a reassuring smile and nod, one that he returned to her. The moment was ruined by the slow clapping of a particular God of Evil.

"Isn't that just a beautiful sight. You have your very own cheerleading section Percy my boy. I hope that it reinvigorates your will to fight me. Or rather, just your will to fight."

"What?" Percy's expression was set into a dour frown.

Angra Mainyu chuckled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. It looked completely out of place considering that he was both dressed in very high-end attire, and that he was literally All the World's Evils. From his expression and chuckle, one might believe him to have been a child that had just been caught doing something they shouldn't have been doing. As it stood, Ahriman's demeanor disconcerted Percy to a small extent.

"Well you see, I never was one to fight directly. Honestly I was never one to fight at all, so I kinda suck at it. Without my godly strength, agility, and endurance I probably would have lost our little competition a while ago. Long story short, you're a better fighter than I am Percy. But don't worry! I think I have just the thing to make this an even match!" The god said jovially with a wide grin.

He snapped his fingers, and the area was once again filled with the feeling of imminent dread and evil intent. The air seemed to radiate hatred, anger, and pain. Those present on the hill that day could swear that they heard the anguished sobbing of men, women, and children echo throughout the area. A deadly miasma rose up and began to cover the hill, though most of it was concentrated inside of the barrier. Percy furrowed his brow as he saw the miasma grow thick and red, until it was fog-like. Ahriman stepped forward, and snapped his fingers again.

"Lü Bu, come and serve!"

The fog thickened, and everybody watched with bated breath as Ahriman's godly power flared a little bit due to what he was attempting. Percy wanted to attack while his opponent was seemingly distracted, but at the same time he had a feeling that doing so would be a mistake in that situation. Instead he readied himself for whatever was going to happen. Several seconds passed by, then it turned into a minute. Percy glanced back and forth between the red mist and the God of Evil, who was starting to glare at the mist as if it had personally insulted his mother.

"Fine, I see how it is. Alright whatever! Mordred, get your ass over here!" Ahriman said angrily at the mist.

That was a name that caught Percy's attention. He knew a bit of the Arthurian Legend, and knew that Mordred was the Knight of Betrayal, the one who delivered the fatal wound to King Arthur at the Battle of Camlann. While Percy wasn't sure what Ahriman was doing calling out his name, the teen was sure that it wasn't anything good.

Once again nothing happened, and the red mist simply kept swirling around the area, with most of it gathered near the now livid God of Evil. Said deity was now muttering to himself too quietly to hear properly, but Percy could still catch some words of "assholes" and "lazy jerks". Grinding his teeth in frustration Angra Mainyu snapped loudly once more.

"Scathach! I swear if you don't make your way to me right now I'll flay you alive!"

Finally, the dark fog began to swirl rapidly, and from the mist appeared a tall, scarlet-eyed woman. The woman had long dark-magenta hair, and smooth, fair colored skin. She wore a long t-shirt that looked to be a few sizes too big for her, which fell down to her lower thighs. She had no shoes or socks on and Percy couldn't tell if she was wearing anything beneath the t-shirt, though he desperately hoped that she was. The woman had a toothbrush in her mouth, and there was some toothpaste dripping down her chin as she continued to brush. Casting an annoyed glance at Ahriman, the woman took out the brush and spat the contents of her mouth on the ground.

"What is it, you pathetic excuse for a god?" She growled, her eyes narrowed.

"What do you think you're doing?" The god responded with an equal amount of venom in his voice.

"I _was_ getting ready to go to bed, but then you call me out to the boonies while I'm brushing my teeth threatening me with flaying! What the fuck do you want?" The woman asked angrily.

"I would have asked someone else, but the other two I called for didn't think it necessary to answer their _master_ when he summons them," Ahriman said bitterly, though the way he was pouting made it difficult to find him intimidating.

The scarlet-eyed stranger scoffed at Ahriman's defeated expression. "Who did you call then?"

"Mordred and Lü Bu. Do you know why they didn't answer my summons?" The god questioned with an irritated tone.

The woman pondered the inquiry for a bit, before she nodded slowly. "Mordred was making a cake, so that was obviously a no go. Last I saw of Lü Bu he was partaking in this generation's pastime."

The God of Evil sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. The exasperation on his face almost made Percy feel bad for the god. Removing his hand Ahriman started to pace.

"Okay. So Mordred was baking a cake and Lü Bu was playing video-games on his damned laptop… Why is Mordred baking a cake!?"

The woman's eyes widened slightly and she shot Angra Mainyu an incredulous look. "It's Temujin's birthday tomorrow! How could you forget? You said we were going on vacation!"

For his part Ahriman simply blinked. Once. Twice.

"Oh… right. Yes of course, I knew that… I was just testing you to make sure you remembered."

The two began to bicker back and forth over Ahriman's forgetfulness. The woman raised her voice to the point where she was practically scolding the God of Evil, who tried to refute her, but he was always shut down before he could say anything meaningful or defend himself properly. Eventually the deity gave up and took on an ashamed look. He didn't meet the woman's eyes as she continued to admonish All the World's Evils on how he shouldn't forget people's birthdays or how he should remember his promises and not let himself be caught up in his work too much. Angra Mainyu rubbed his neck in defeat and looked away from her.

Percy saw his chance as the god had turned his attention completely away from the son of Poseidon. While the teen found the situation quite humorous, he was still fighting for his life. If it had been any other fight, perhaps he would have taunted the God of Evil a bit before going on the offensive. Now though, in the situation he was in, he couldn't let such a perfect opening go to waste because of his sarcastic attitude. There would be time for that later if he were to strike now, and end the fight with one last blow.

Percy crushed the ground beneath his feet as he pushed off the ground with all his strength. The world seemed to warp around him as his eyes struggled to keep up with the speed at which he was travelling. As his sword arm moved downwards to strike at Ahriman's exposed neck, Percy saw a flash of red appear off to his side. Just as Anaklusmos was about to connect with Angra Mainyu and end the fight then and there, it was stopped by a long, blood red spear. The woman had appeared in front of Percy and had blocked the strike with her own weapon, which she had pulled from seemingly nowhere.

The son of Poseidon was quite sure that he would have seen the six-foot long spear if it had been around before. After all, where could she possibly have hidden that? Before the teen could react, the woman spun around and swung her spear. Percy blocked the spear with Riptide so that it wouldn't cut through his torso. He idly noted that the woman hadn't thrust the spear, as people normally do, but instead she had swung it as if it were a baseball bat. Add the fact that she didn't have a shield on hand, Percy was understandably confused as to what kind of fighting style the woman would be privy to.

It was odd though. When had she moved? Percy had been sure that he was moving as fast as he could. If that were the case then nothing short of a god could have seen him, much less reacted in time to both summon a spear and jump in front of the attack. Not only that, but she had stood her ground. While Percy hadn't quite used the full extent of the curse to bolster his arm strength, he surely hadn't used so little that it could be blocked by a normal demigod or human. With the information that Percy had gathered, he know had enough knowledge to verify that the woman before him was extremely dangerous, even if she was dressed unassumingly.

Warily, Percy readied his blade once again, prepared to parry any incoming strike that the stranger threw at him.

"Oi, Ahriman, is this the kid you gave the curse to?" The woman asked, not taking her eyes off of Percy's tense form. She too was in a battle-stance, her spear pointed down towards the ground with the end raised. Her long legs were bent slightly, and she had her bare feet planted firmly on the ground.

Now that Percy got a good look at the blood-red weapon, he felt shivers go down his spine at the amount of bloodlust that it seemingly radiated. He had felt bloodlust in lesser quantities before during his adventures as a demigod hero, but never had he felt it to the extent that was currently being emitted. If he was a lesser man, he probably would have already turned tail and left the battlefield. As it stood though, he doubted that he could escape even if he wanted to. The barrier that had previously been erected was still up and strong. Not only that, but Percy was sure that if he took his attention off of the woman before him; then there would be no way that he would even get the chance to fight back before he was killed.

She had moved too quickly, too accurately for her to be a demigod. No, she was more relatable to a god or something of that nature. Percy shivered slightly at the thought of fighting another god, but realized that she certainly wasn't radiating the natural aura that all gods had. The spear on the other hand, was a completely different story. He freed himself of his disparaging thoughts as he heard Ahriman respond to the woman's inquiry.

"Yes, that is the man. Perseus Ajax Jackson is without a doubt the most fitting person to carry the curse in today's world. The first one for… hm… six-hundred years or so. I believe I outdid myself with this choice though! Ha, Spenta Mainyu won't know what hit him!" Ahriman said excitedly. He rubbed his hands together like a typical villain in cheesy spy movies. "Soon I will have rid myself of the annoying pest for the foreseeable future! Muahahahahaha!"

The magenta-haired woman and Percy both winced at the God of Evil's attempt at an evil laugh. It was beyond Percy how Angra Mainyu could butcher something that _should_ have come naturally for All the World's Evils. Truly, it was amazing how terrible the laugh was, and Percy was truly tempted to antagonize the Zoroastrian just to get a reaction. If he was going to die he might as well go down swinging, and if he couldn't get deliver any physical damage, hopefully the emotional toil would scar the evil deity. Perhaps he would die of embarrassment?

"That was probably the most pathetic attempt that I've heard up to this day…" The woman deadpanned, beating Percy to the punch. The son of Poseidon cursed under his breath for missing the opportunity.

The God of Evil face-faulted at his companion's harsh words. "Ouch, tell me how you really feel why don't you," the deity mumbled.

"Well met Perseus," the woman said, ignoring the moping Ahriman. "My name is Scáthach, the witch of Dún Scáith. I can see that you really are an incredible young hero already. I can't wait to truly fight you once this façade is over." The newly named Scáthach readied her spear, twirling it in her hand like it weighed nothing.

"What are you talking about? What façade?" Percy queried, his mind racing a mile a minute trying to figure out what was going on. The situation had devolved from a fight to the death with All the World's Evils, to a comedy skit within the span of a few minutes. Not to mention one of the comedians was apparently an incredibly strong woman named Scáthach, who was also a witch.

Scáthach said nothing else, and crouched low, before she dashed forward, blurring out of Percy's vision for a split second. The son of Poseidon recovered from his shock quick enough, mostly out of necessity of not losing his leg to Scathach's spear. Twirling out of the way, Percy brought his sword around and slapped the spear away. The two then began to move in a flurry of rapid slashes and vicious ripostes. Sparks flew from the sheer force behind each blow that was delivered, and the sounds of metal on metal dominated the air.

Scáthach danced through any attacks that made it past her guard, effectively causing Percy to become frustrated at his lack of progress. On the other hand, Percy had already been cut a few times by the red spear, leaving behind ugly wounds that seemed to fester with some unknown material. The skin around each injury turned an ugly shade of blue-green, like a particularly nasty bruise. The only problem was that Percy was sure that these lacerations were not a product of blunt force trauma, but rather of a clean blade slice.

Several minutes passed as each combatant fought with increased vigor. The son of Poseidon was tiring though, the curse of power having already taken a large toll on his body. Scáthach had a small smile gracing her lips as she crashed her spear against Anaklusmos. Her eyes seemed to dance with fire and excitement, though that could potentially be attributed to the odd-coloration that they naturally had. Scáthach moved under Percy's guard as soon as he made his first mistake in overreaching to decapitate her. She deftly ducked, and spun her spear around, knocking Percy away with the shaft of her weapon.

The teen grunted as he felt a tremendous force slam into his stomach. Stumbling back several feet, Percy managed to parry another strong strike. He redirected the spear upwards with the flat of his sword, and rammed a shoulder into Scáthach's chest. Taking the presented opportunity, Percy let loose a devastating punch to the lightly dressed woman's gut. The force of the blow knocked the woman back several paces, and she ducked under the horizontal slash that Percy made. Twirling her spear the woman used the tip to launch a small rock from the ground directly at Percy's face.

Caught off guard by the unorthodox maneuver the son of Poseidon had no time to react as the rock connected with his forehead. Grunting in pain Percy narrowly avoided being impaled through the shoulder. Sidestepping, the teen brought his sword around and blocked the red weapon. Scáthach backed off from her assault for a few seconds, letting her opponent catch his breath.

The magenta-haired woman hefted her spear, and gripped it higher on the shaft, closer to the leaf-shaped tip. Now with some time to breathe, Percy managed to take note of the spear that Scáthach was holding.

Both ends were pointed, though one end held the true tip of the dangerous spear. The aforementioned tip was fairly long, nearly a foot total, and where the spearhead met the shaft there were two small protrusions, as if the end was barbed or serrated. The other end of the spear had a four inch long spike attached to the end. The shaft of the weapon was a deeper shade of red than either the tip or the opposite end. The main body of the spear also seemed to be covered in some kind of odd pattern, as if to help the user grip the spear better. Scáthach noticed that Percy was observing her weapon, and brought it up to her chest, pointed in front of her.

"Gáe Bolg, that's the name of this spear. I see you eyeing it warily, which simply shows your true battle mentality. A warrior through and through if I've ever seen one. You're probably even more of a prodigy than my former student," Scáthach said, though she muttered the final sentence to herself more than anyone.

"Gay Bulge?" Percy asked with a deadpan forming on his face. "What kind of name is that? Doesn't really sound too threatening."

Scáthach's eyebrow twitched at hearing the mispronunciation of her spear's name. Lowering the spear down she prepared to jump into the fray once more, but not before she corrected the son of Poseidon on his mistake. She poured an immense amount of power into the spear, which began to glow bright red. Soon, power leaked off of the spear like tendrils, floating around the tip of the weapon. Percy felt himself break out in a cold sweat as he felt the massive amount of bloodlust that the weapon was now radiating. It was almost as if the spear was calling for death, his death to be precise. He stepped back on shaky legs as the feeling amplified even more, covering the entire hill with an eerie red glow. Percy felt his throat constrict as Scathach moved Gáe Bolg forward ever so slightly.

Everybody else on the hill felt the immense feeling of futility crash down upon them. The woman that stood in the barrier had practically become the reaper of souls, and her spear was the ever-looming scythe of the reaper. Even the gods were slightly shaken at the overwhelming bloodlust that was permeating the air. The campers were affected far more than the Olympians, and many were physically trembling where they stood. All of their highly-trained senses were screaming at them to escape from the area, to run as far and as fast as possible. To leave the hill behind so that they could live another day.

"Did you know that in my former life, I became known as a god-slayer for my combat prowess. I was seen as neither human nor monster, but something eternally between both of those things. I was both feared and respected by those who walked the same path as me, though they could never reach where I stood. I was always alone where I walked and even the best warriors were still miles behind me, trying desperately to catch up. I wonder if you will be able to walk beside me Perseus Jackson, or if you will be destined to forever follow the path that I trampled thousands of years ago." Scáthach mused. She looked at him with piercing red eyes, locking her gaze onto his.

"You started walking this path already, but I will see how far you've travelled here and now. Let's see if you can reach new heights like Ahriman believes you can."

With that said, she bolted forward. Percy had anticipated the charge, and therefore moved towards Scáthach as well, not waiting for her to reach him. The two met at the halfway point, and slammed into each other with tremendous force. The ground beneath the combatants cracked as their weapons met mid-swing. Percy had opted to use the remainder of his strength for one last desperate push against the seemingly unstoppable woman before him. He flexed his strength to the max, and managed to push Scáthach's spear away from the deadlock. He spun around and kicked her in the stomach, sending her stumbling back. The son of Poseidon moved to take advantage of the momentary opening, but was disappointed when Scáthach managed to regain her footing and blocked his attack with some difficulty.

The witch of Dún Scáith used her spear to sweep at the ground near Percy's feet after disconnecting from his sword. The hero blocked low and swatted her spear aside. Anaklusmos came up in a wide arc, but Scáthach dodged left and managed to cut Percy's side with the spike at the end of Gáe Bolg. Percy growled in annoyance and crashed his sword against Scáthach's spear. The two then began a deadly duel in one spot. Sword met spear over and over again, each strike sending out minor shock waves due to the incredible force behind each blow. Even with Percy using all of the strength that he could afford to, he was still just slightly stronger than his opponent.

Scáthach was, for lack of a better word, amazing to look at as she fought. Her moves were deft and elegant. She moved like a woman possessed, avoiding all of Percy's swings and thrusts. The son of Poseidon supposed that it was to be expected though, as she was apparently thousands of years old according to her own account. Not only that but she was also given the title of god-slayer. By whom, Percy didn't know, but he doubted that Scáthach would have lied to him about that, especially since she had seemed somewhat bitter about her own fame and renown.

The area where the duo stood soon cratered due to an exceptionally strong clash. Dirt and rock flew through the air, dropping visibility quite low. Percy felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and he fell to the ground just in time to avoid Gáe Bolg as it soared over his head. The teen stood back up quickly and propelled himself forward. Scáthach stood off to the side of the crater that had been created, weaponless. Grinning with triumph, the demigod launched himself directly at his opponent. Instead of lunging straight for the kill, Percy decided to mix things up. He rolled on the ground and swept at Scáthach's feet with his leg. The proclaimed witch fell back, and Percy was glad to see that she was indeed wearing a pair of black boxer-briefs beneath her long t-shirt. Scáthach planted her hand behind her head and flipped herself over before she hit the ground in an incredible display of core strength.

Percy watched in awe as she moved like an acrobat, coming back up she sent her knee into his chin, knocking the hero onto his back. He scrambled up, not seeing his foe send a right hook to his ribs. As the fist connected, Percy felt another fist hit his chin. Disoriented, Percy felt something strike his chest and he was sent sprawling back down to the ground. Coughing, the demigod rolled over and got to his feet. He noticed that Scáthach had once again gotten hold of Gáe Bolg and was bringing it up to the fore.

' _There's no way that I can keep going. I have to try and finish it with one final attack, maybe I can goad her into letting her guard down.'_ Percy thought to himself, attempting to find a way out of the precarious situation he was in.

"You managed to land a good swipe there Perseus. Your potential is great, now all we need to do is nurture that and watch you reach the heavens," Scáthach said gently, almost tenderly, as she advanced on him. "As it stands now, you've lost. You simply don't have what it takes, but we can change that. Stand down Perseus, the fight is over."

Percy stood tall, even though his entire being protested at the action and wanted nothing more than to fall to the ground and rest. Despite the pain Percy didn't flinch. He held his head high and stared defiantly at the witch of Dún Scáith. His sea-green eyes clashed with Scathach's scarlet-red ones, and an understanding passed through them with that one gesture. The witch's expression softened exponentially as she looked at the son of Poseidon. The raw passion and willpower that resided in his body, that seemed to make up his very being, ignited a burning flame inside of herself. She gripped her spear tightly, and gave Percy a very sincere and genuine smile.

"Angra. You'll have to work some of your magic after this is said and done. The Hero standing before me wishes to challenge the power of a god-slayer." Scáthach turned fully to face the God of Evil, her eyes alight with fiery determination. "I plan on giving him all that he can handle. It's the least I can do to honor such a fierce warrior."

The Zoroastrian nodded his head slowly as he observed his subject. It had been centuries since he had seen the same fire in her eyes that he saw now. Angra Mainyu was momentarily taken aback by the steel in Scáthach's voice, as it left no room for argument in the slightest. He recomposed himself and cleared his throat loudly.

"Very well. I wanted to avoid doing things this way, but you seem to have your mind set. I shall repair what damage is done to him, you may proceed."

The witch of Dún Scáith nodded in thanks and turned back to face her opponent. There before her stood a man that would not bend under the pressure, no matter how much was pushed onto him. He was certainly made of steel, perhaps a steel that was stronger than her own. Certainly, standing only twenty feet away, was a true incarnation of a Hero. There was no doubt in her mind, that although she would win the upcoming exchange, he would still wind up victorious in the end. She wins the battle, he wins the war. Truthfully Scáthach was perfectly content with that outcome.

This would all work to her own advantage anyway. This final trade of blows would show the Hero of Olympus that he could still reach higher. That he could still grow into something that transcended even Angra Mainyu and any singular god in the world. She saw it in him. His greatness would not be limited any longer with the Greeks. The time for Perseus Jackson to break free of his bonds had come, and she would be the one to set him free.

The very thought made her heart pound in her chest. She would help shape the legend, and forever would this moment be remembered. She would leave another mark on history that she could be proud of.

' _I'm sorry my fierce Hound. It seems that this one will be my greatest achievement. Forgive me.'_ With her thoughts cleared of doubt, Scathach took her stance.

The bloodlust immediately rocketed to near unbearable heights as she poured an inane amount of power into Gáe Bolg. The spear began to radiate red energy in her hands, and she could feel the burning of her palms as time passed by. The woman met the eyes of her foe once more, and sighed as she saw the same conviction that she had seen before. Even in the face of certain defeat would this Hero continue to defy her.

She hefted the spear, and prepared to move.

Percy saw the attack coming, though he didn't quite know what it would entail. As such, he decided to throw caution to the wind, and use every last ounce of power. This would be his final swing. It would be the swing that decided his fate. He felt his bones fracture slightly as he poured the curse's power into his body. His muscles started to cord and rip, and his blood vessels soon began to rupture. The son of Poseidon felt blood leak from his nose, and a wet feeling in his ear told him that he was probably bleeding from there too. His gut felt like he had just drank from both the Phlegethon and the Styx, the burning was eating away at his stomach.

He moved Anaklusmos up, and got ready to attack.

Without notice, both Percy and Scáthach rushed each other. Scáthach pulled her arm back slightly, before thrusting her spear forward. They were still too far from one another for the spear to connect, and Percy was understandably confused. At least he was, until he saw the twisting red _beam_ of energy that seemingly elongated the spear. His eyes widened as he saw it move in random directions around the immediate area, almost like a snake wiggling with it's head cut off. Then, as if possessed, the _beam_ homed in on him. More specifically, his heart.

Percy's eyes widened. He had to swing, otherwise he would die. And so, the son of Poseidon, and the greatest demigod to ever live swung Riptide with all of his might, hitting the red _beam_ head on. The two superpowers clashed against one another. Gáe Bolg fought against Anaklusmos. Perseus Jackson against Scáthach of Dún Scáith. The resulting shockwave of the blow flattened the ground around the impact point, before the earth shattered completely. Wind buffeted Ahriman where he stood, and the God of Evil had to cover his eyes from the amount of dust that was kicked up. The clash between weapons lasted only a couple of seconds, and the victor was decided soon enough.

Anaklusmos yielded.

The beautiful celestial bronze blade broke into two pieces and Gáe Bolg carried on towards it's intended target. Percy felt something punch through the left side of his chest, and his world nearly went black. Suddenly, he felt a horrendous pain flare up in his chest, as if something had detonated. He felt himself get pulled forward as the _beam_ retracted back to the original form of Gáe Bolg. He was lifted off his feet and flung into the air where he sailed for a second before landing painfully on the ground. His vision was blurred, and dots danced through his eyes.

He used his right arm to push himself up. He barely made it halfway until his ulna snapped in half, causing his arm to give out under him. The son of Poseidon fell onto the ground once more. His body was drained, and his muscles and bones were fragile. He noticed that the world was mostly silent, though he could vaguely hear something. It was almost as if someone were talking through a wall. He couldn't hear exactly what was being said, but he decided not to dwell on the sounds. The more pressing matter was that he was losing blood rapidly, and with it, consciousness. Somebody rolled his over onto his back, and through his blurred vision he could see piercing red eyes. Something came close to his ear, and he felt warm breath brush against his face.

"You did well young Hero. Rest now, and thank you for your conviction."

With that, Percy drifted into a state of pleasant unfeeling with one final thought.

 _'Where did her toothbrush go?'_

* * *

 _With Scáthach…_

The witch of Dún Scáith stood over the body of the Hero who she had just defeated. Even though his conviction and will to win was present in their last clash, it truly could not have ended any other way. While the sword breaking was not exactly guaranteed, the odds of Perseus having escaped her attack were practically zero. Her spear was cursed after all. Whenever fully awakened, Gáe Bolg would always hit the heart of the intended target. Never before had anybody been the exception to this rule. Even gods had fallen to Scáthach's most lethal attack.

That was why, when the magenta-haired woman turned the Hero of Olympus on his back, she was shocked to see that the hole that Gáe Bolg created was several inches off of the heart. No doubt that the spear had clipped a major artery, but it had failed to destroy the heart. For two thousand years had Gáe Bolg been able to kill any opponent that Scathach had deemed worthy. For two thousand years had her spear been able to pierce the heart without fail.

After two thousand years Scáthach had finally found the one.

Scáthach knelt down and brushed her face against Percy's own. Her mouth was next to his ear as she spoke her heartfelt words to the wounded man. "You did well young Hero. Rest now, and thank you for your conviction."

The woman stood back up, and she saw the Perseus had closed his eyes, no doubt falling unconscious do to blood loss and immense fatigue. He had used the curse of power for quite some time, and the fight against her couldn't have been easy on his body. He must have pushed himself to the brink to fight on par with her, and she felt slightly guilty at having held back for his sake at the thought. It was her own selfish desire to not give him her full attention, and the great warrior would no doubt feel fairly insulted when she told him that she hadn't been fighting at her best.

"You missed."

The sound of Ahriman's voice broke the witch of Dún Scáith out of her reverie. Scáthach turned to face the God of Evil, who was standing a few feet from the fallen son of Poseidon with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He had a perplexed expression on his face; and emotion that Scáthach felt as well given the circumstances.

Scáthach shook her head slowly and deliberately. Her long magenta hair was tousled by the fight that had taken place, but it still managed to catch the moonlight wonderfully as it waved around. "No, he dodged. It shouldn't have been possible, and yet…"

At that, Angra Mainyu lifted an eyebrow in a silent inquiry. Scáthach could do nothing but smile and shrug noncommittally. The God of Evil smiled in return, knowing that the warrior-witch was more than likely excited after the fight that she had just partaken in. Waving his hand over Percy's body, the deity willed the wounds that littered his form to close. A small puddle of _**mud**_ formed around Percy, and slowly moved around his form, seeping into each and every injury. After a few seconds, the skin and tissue began to repair itself with help of the _**mud**_.

Scáthach gave a small sigh of relief at seeing the wounds disappear, causing Angra Mainyu to smirk slightly. "Have you grown so attached to the boy already Scáthach?"

The witch gave the God of Evil a small, nearly unnoticeable smile before she responded, "To be honest, I have. He is an amazing warrior, and one that I'm sure will be able to walk by me in the future. He will then leave me behind, and for once, I will be forced to catch up to somebody else."

There was a long silence on the hill, and for the first time since she had seen Perseus, Scáthach noted that the campers and Olympians seemed to be in an uproar. The barrier was being pounded mercilessly by a variety of weapons and powers. Everybody outside of the barrier was taking part in the massive assault, although the gods were keeping a tight leash on their own power so as to not harm the mortals around them. What was odd though was that even though the Greeks were attacking with ferocity, no sound could be heard at all.

Scáthach cast a confused glance at Angra Mainyu, who simply smirked at her. "I decided to make the barrier soundproof a little bit ago, right before you used your final attack there. I thought it would be a good idea since they'll probably be screaming and demanding things we have no intention of doing."

With the explanation done, the Zoroastrian deity snapped his fingers, and the _**mud**_ enveloped Percy's body completely before it sank into the earth. When the _**mud**_ had completely receded, Percy's body could no longer be seen. Scathach nodded her head and looked back at all the half-bloods and the Olympians. Angra Mainyu placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you ready to leave?" The god asked.

Scáthach took note of the looks of despair on many of the campers faces. The God of the Sea also looked to be in anguish at the situation as he mercilessly slammed his trident against the translucent barrier. The witch of Dún Scáith locked eyes with two girls who stood at the front, continuously hammering away with their weapons. One had electric blue eyes which were burning with anger and pain. Her hair was short, and raven-black, with a small silver circlet near the top of her head. The other girl had startling grey eyes which brimmed with tears, though Scáthach could see the determination and intelligence behind them. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail which waved through the air as she swung her dagger at the barrier.

Turning away from the amassed Greek forces, Scáthach replied to Ahriman, "Yeah. Let's get out of here."

With that, the two were whisked away by a dark red mist that covered the earth, leaving Half-Blood Hill behind.

* * *

 **A/N: So there we have it. The Zoroastrian God of Evil and Scathach of the Isle of Skye are in league with one another. For Scathach's character I decided for easier visual reference to incorporate her look from Fate/Grand Order. All rights for that go to their respective owners. More of her story and personality will be revealed in the coming chapters, so if you don't know who she is from mythology and don't want to read a bit about her, have no fear, I shall explain some things.**

 _ **Reviews:**_

 **spnaph- Soon shall the demigods be informed of the gods' original plans, and I'm pretty sure that some reactions will be quite easy to guess. When I wrote Percy I wanted to make him still sound like himself, but at the same time I wanted to show that certain experiences can change even the best of people. I like Percy as a hero, but I kinda want to make him struggle a bit as he continues down the path. Thanks for the review!**

 **guestX- Thank you, I'll try my best to keep it strong!**

 **omg- I wish I could promise updates every few days, but alas I have work to eat up my time. I'll try and write whenever I'm free though!**

 **SignalFlux- Thank you for your kind words! I do try my best to invest the reader in my work, and as such I find that crafting a picture with words usually helps bring the reader into the world they're reading about. I'm glad you like the plot and the way that Percy was written so far. I wanted to make Percy feel like Percy, but at the same time to be somewhat changed by his experiences. Innocence dies with experience and all that fun stuff. Glad you like it so far, and I'll be sure to keep your words in mind!**

 **Guest- Thanks! I'll do my best!**


	4. Who Fights to Save the Wicked?

**A/N: Welcome ladies and gentlemen to Ch. 4 of Burden of the Curse. Let me be the first to thank you who have Followed/Favorited/Reviewed my story. I do appreciate the support shown that way. Now let me be the first to also say that this chapter gave me some problems while writing it. I just could not for the life of me figure out how to go about integrating Percy into the new world that is starting to be revealed to him. I wanted to go jump right into it, but I also wanted to build this properly and to make sure that I get some good character development in. This is a very exposition heavy chapter, but I didn't want to just have a huge timeskip to when Percy has everything figured out and when he's ready to kick ass and take names. That'll happen, he will be (very) powerful, but I wanted some stuff to happen first.**

 **I digress. Next order of business is reviews and PMs. If you would like your question answered quickly, go ahead and send me a PM. Reviews will be answered the following chapter. PMs let me know that this is a message you would like to know immediately, and I'll try and get to them nice and fast.**

 **Now this chapter introduces even more new characters who will play certain roles in the upcoming conflict. I haven't given them a lot of screen time, but they will get more further down the line, and their own motives will be revealed. Oh, and I'll be putting the review responses up here from now on, sorry if that's more of an inconvenience for scrolling and stuff, but some reviews probably need to be answered prior to the chapter.**

 **One more thing. The pairing. This will be a PercyxMulti pairing, with three or four girls. One of them is already kinda obvious, so there are two or three more spots left. I'll go ahead and create a poll so that you can vote for who Percy will be paired with. Okay, with that said let's get onto reviews.**

 _ **Reviews:**_

 **Jlong578- So sorry for not getting to your review last chapter. The reviews were down on the site, I noticed it happen to practically all authors. Thank you for your words though, and I do plan on continuing this until the end. I'll try my best to provide with entertaining content!**

 **Naruto DxD- Thank you, like I said that was my favorite chapter to write. As for that pairing... that has been a big question mark for me since I started writing Scathach's character. She is a non-canon character, so her chances are lower, but I'll let the viewers decide on pairings.**

 **Just Phatom- As of now, I'm pretty torn on whether to keep Annabeth with Percy or not. This is a multi-pairing, so she could still be there, but with my self-imposed limit of three or four girls... well I'll let the viewers help with deciding pairings.**

 **spnaph- Ah, my good friend and constant reviewer. Thank you for your kind words, I really liked writing Chapter 3 and I'm glad you liked it too. I tried to keep Percy as in character as I could with regards to his sarcasm and whatnot, but at the same time he is obviously a bit more mature and slightly damaged. I hope I continue to hear from you!**

 **Alpha1413- Thanks for that! I try to make it to the best of my ability.**

 **SignalFlux- I completely agree with you that OC's can be very detrimental to a story overall if they take too much attention and are poorly developed. I do hesitate to call them OC's, mostly because they are from legend, history, and mythology, so there is a basis there already. I understand though that since I am crafting them as a separate version that the myths, that they can be viewed as an OC. I want to try and portray each of my non-canon characters as they have been in their respective legends, while also expanding upon those legends in terms of personality. As you may have guessed, there will be quite a few more non-canon characters in this story, though my plan was never for them to take center stage, but to support the main hero who is still going to be Percy. Some will be obstacles, others will be great help, but none of them will become the focus of attention for to long. I will still try to develop them as time goes, but never will Percy be left out. Thanks for your review, and I do hope to see you once again to tell me how things are going.**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own or make any money off of this work of fanfiction. All rights for the characters in Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus go to Rick Riordan and all who were involved in the creation of the novels.**

* * *

4\. Who Fights to Save the Wicked?

The throne room of Olympus was bursting with activity. The cabin counselors of Camp Half-Blood all stood talking between one another as the gods, both minor and major also talked amongst themselves. There was screaming, crying, cursing, and some blows were even exchanged. While the more rowdy behavior was mostly reserved for the campers, that wasn't to say that the gods were calm or unperturbed by any stretch of the imagination. Most were furiously whispering to each other, many of them feeling extreme guilt over the fact that Percy Jackson had been taken.

Thalia stood with the hunters of Artemis near her mistress' throne. The mood of the hunt was fairly sour. They had lost two of their sisters-in-arms during the Invasion of Half-Blood Hill, which had come to be the unofficial name for the battle that had taken place only an hour prior. While losing only two hunters was quite lucky by all accounts, it certainly didn't mean that there was no reason to grieve. Thalia herself felt bad that the two had died on her watch. Since her mistress wasn't there herself, it fell upon the daughter of Zeus to lead the hunters, and to ensure their general well-being.

In this regard, she had most certainly failed. Both Cassandra and Lily had been with the hunt for a little over a century, and were very loyal to Artemis and the hunt as a whole. They were well loved by pretty much everybody, with both being very sociable and amiable with regards to any new members that joined the hunt. Thalia felt the weight of their deaths push heavily on her shoulders, and she slumped down as she recalled the battle once again.

In addition to the two fatalities, Percy had not only been defeated in battle, but had been taken away by the Zoroastrian God of Evil. Even if the hunters were more often than not adverse to most males, all of them knew that Percy Jackson had the respect of their mistress. They figured that if Artemis could find it in herself to view Percy in a positive light, then they could do the same too. It also helped that their lieutenant was quite adamant that Percy was an example of a good male, and a fantastic friend. Not only that, but Thalia was always happy around the son of Poseidon, and looked forward to the occasional visit to Camp Half-Blood specifically because of the Hero of Olympus. This helped Percy's personal image when it came to the hunters. Now, there was one positive that came from the Invasion of Half-Blood Hill.

The camp had survived.

Unfortunately, that was practically the only thing that was good about the situation. Thirty campers, two hunters, and one Hero of Olympus could all be counted among the casualties of the fight. While it was unclear what the condition of Percy Jackson was, one thing was for certain. What Angra Mainyu had in store could only be detrimental for the hero. All the World's Evil would definitely not go out of his way for no reason, especially when it came to somebody as powerful as Percy Jackson. Surely the God of Evil had something sinister planned.

Thalia had her arms crossed and her eyes closed as she listened to the din all around her. The shouting and accusations thrown out, not to mention the occasional sob or the growl of frustration all registered to the daughter of Zeus, and they only served to make her angrier than she already was. She wanted to do a great many things in that moment, most of which involved throwing her lightning at the gathered gods and half-bloods for putting her cousin through immense emotional duress. Gritting her teeth, the lieutenant of the hunt sat down and placed her hands on her head. The headache that was slowly beginning to form was not helping improve her already terrible mood. For the first time in a long time, Thalia felt completely at a loss.

There was no trace of where Percy had been taken. He had simply been whisked off by the _**mud**_ that Angra Mainyu could summon. Add that there was no good information on where Angra Mainyu resided in the first place, and things looked grim for her cousin. The Greeks had no clue on where to even start looking. Then there was the fact that even if they had a lead, there were a multitude of situations that would mean the gods couldn't interfere. The main problem would be if Angra Mainyu was at one location while Percy was at another. Fighting between deities was not forbidden by the Ancient Laws, but directly interfering by taking Percy back would be seen as breaking the Laws. What was baffling was that Angra Mainyu was able to kidnap Percy in the first place. The reason was unknown to the Greeks, but somehow Ahriman had interfered directly with the life of Percy Jackson, a mortal demigod.

If it came down to it, Thalia knew that the Olympians would be too scared of the Ancient Laws to rescue Percy if Ahriman was not present. That meant that demigods would be needed in order to save the Hero of Olympus. Thalia wasn't sure if they could get a quest that involved something outside of the Greek pantheon, but since the last Great Prophecy included the Romans then the odds were in her favor. Of course, the Greeks and the Romans were so closely tied together that they could be seen as basically the same pantheon. Sure there were changes, but to say that the Greeks and Romans were similar would be an understatement.

Applying that logic, Thalia was unsure if the Fates could mess around with a religion like Zoroastrianism. For one, it was a monotheistic religion, not polytheistic. Secondly was that there was no real tie between Zoroastrianism and the Greeks and Romans. At least, none that she was aware of.

To put the final nail in the coffin, Thalia Grace was sure that even if a quest was issued by some miracle, those sent would meet their ends if they were to fight against Scáthach. The daughter of Zeus had never seen somebody move with such precision and speed. The witch of Dún Scáith would be a terrifying opponent to go up against. If Percy couldn't beat her, then what chance did any other demigod?

Her fighting skills aside, the spear that she wielded was something to fear as well. Thalia wasn't sure what had happened in that final clash, but somehow the spear had broken through Anaklusmos, and had hit Percy directly in the heart. It had moved around the area at odd and sometimes unimaginable angles before it had apparently homed in. Thalia was sure that the spear had actively sought out her cousin's heart, and it had found it.

Feeling a knot form in her throat from recalling the memory, the raven-haired hunter swallowed thickly. She had almost watched as her cousin was killed in front of her eyes twice in one day. Then she had seen him being healed and robbed from her, only a few dozen feet from where she stood. The sight of him being impaled by Kampê's scimitar replayed in her mind. She could hear the sickening sound of the blade passing through Percy's body, crunching through the bone and tearing through skin and tissue. The moment replayed in her mind as she scrunched up her face in an effort to rid herself of the images.

Finally, Zeus' resounding voice ended all conversation and argument, along with Thalia's own recollections. "This meeting will now be called into order! First let us address the major problem. Perseus has been abducted by the deity of another religion. I bel-"

He was interrupted by a livid Annabeth before he could finish his thought. "And it was because of your half-baked plans that he was taken! Your own fear of this new prophecy led you to act irrationally and you practically pushed Percy into Ahriman's hands!" The anger in her voice was relayed by her furious expression.

"My daughter, try and understand that we did what we thought necessary for the safety of Olympus. Not only for us, but for our children as well." Athena rebutted calmly, though her face was slightly downcast.

"Obviously not for my child. You were all fine with making him the sacrificial lamb!" Poseidon shouted as he clutched the two broken halves of Riptide tightly in his hand. Golden ichor fell from his palm as the sharp edge of the blade bit into his flesh. He slammed a fist onto the armrest of his throne, and glared murderously at the other assembled Olympians.

"Poseidon please calm yourself. Nobody was happy to do what they did. But in the face of such a foreboding prophecy…" Athena retorted, her voice staying calm in the face of the angry accusations. She knew that she was walking on thin ice, and that having an irate God of the Sea would do no good in the current situation. She hoped to defuse any potential outbursts, and as such decided not to anger her rival too much.

"Speaking of the prophecy that had you all quivering in your boots… Would you care to share with the rest of the class?" Thalia asked in a scathing tone of voice. Her eyes glinted dangerously as she stepped away from her mistress' throne and closer to the group of demigods who stood in the middle of the large room. Even though she moved closer to the half-bloods, she did nothing to integrate herself into their assembled mass.

There was a pregnant pause in the room, and the Olympians all looked at each other. Finally it was Zeus who spoke up, much to his daughters disdain. She shot him a harsh glare, causing the King of the Gods to clear his throat nervously. "Ahem, yes. The prophecy was as follows." After reciting the words that Apollo had originally spoken, the God of the Sky glanced around at the half-bloods.

"That sounds both good and bad at the same time. Why are prophecies always so weird?" Connor Stoll asked, throwing his hands up in exasperation as he spoke. His brother nodded in assent, as did many of the other demigods. They all felt quite conflicted after hearing the new prophecy that seemingly foretold the downfall of Olympus. It certainly didn't help that many signs certainly pointed towards Percy being the one who would bring about the drastic changes that the prophecy spoke of.

There were a few people though who seemed to be having a difficult time accepting that the gods were justified in what they had done. Thalia clenched her fist as she approached her father's throne. Once she reached the foot of the large marble seat, Zeus shrunk down to a more human size, and faced her head on. The two stared at one another for several seconds, and the tension in the air was palpable. If possible, electricity shot between their eyes as the silent struggle continued on. Zeus noted the twitch in his daughter's hand, and was prepared to dodge any strike that may have come his way. He knew that what the Olympians had done was less that ideal, but he had hoped that they could at least keep it from the demigods who admired his nephew so much. The King of the Gods knew that if Thalia had found out, there would be hell to pay.

Finally, the lieutenant of the hunt backed up several steps, her face set in a deep scowl. "You convicted him without any solid evidence against him. You only had conjecture and implications, and now he's fallen into the hands of the God of Evil. If there was even a chance that he wasn't who the prophecy spoke of before, it's basically guaranteed now with your actions. He probably wants to tear Olympus down piece by piece after what you all did. Were his actions not enough for you all? Did he not do enough for everybody here!?" Thalia cried out, her voice growing desperate and sorrowful.

She turned and made her way to her mistress, making the Goddess of the Hunt grown nervous upon Thalia's approach. Artemis shrank herself down to her mortal size and fiddled with her hands once her lieutenant stood before her. The raven-haired hunter looked at her mistress with tired eyes, though the pain and frustration of the day could be seen clearly written through her body language and facial expression. The goddess clenched her jaw and prepared for what was to come.

"My lady, how did you vote when it came to you?" Thalia asked softly.

Artemis let out a nearly inaudible sigh as she pulled Thalia into a tight hug. Her lieutenant tensed for a moment, before she returned the embrace just as tightly. The two stood there for some time, Artemis still ready to be berated or perhaps even struck by her friend. When Thalia pulled back Artemis decided to answer truthfully.

"I… I did vote for him to swear his loyalty and to make him a god. I was… WE… were all quite shaken by the prophecy that was given. We debated for some time as we tried to make sense of what the Fates were proclaiming. It certainly wasn't an easy decision to make, especially when it was about an outstanding hero such as Perseus. We wanted to ensure that things would stay the same, and that nobody would get hurt in the process." The goddess cast her eyes away from the defeated look on her friend's face.

"Thalia we'll find him. Wherever he is I'm sure Seaweed Brain will get out of it. He always manages to do impossible things," Annabeth said as she walked to her long time friend. Just as she placed her hand of Thalia's shoulder the daughter of Zeus whipped around with fury blazing in her eyes. Slapping her friends arm away Thalia got close to the blonde's face.

"And you!" She hissed venomously, causing Annabeth to flinch at the tone. "You didn't help him at all. None of the campers did. I saw all of your expressions when Ahriman was talking about how you treated him. It was all true! You all hated him for reminding you of your tough times! Well guess what, he wasn't faring any better! If you had taken the time to talk to him you would have seen that he was struggling just like the rest of you, but no, you left him out to dry. You of all people Annabeth Chase, should have tried to understand his position. He saved you from Tartarus, and you repay him by ignoring him!?" Thalia shook her head in disgust as she glared at the now guilt-ridden campers.

Annabeth hugged her sides tightly as she listened to her friend's rant. She knew that any anger that Thalia had was justified. How could it not be? Annabeth was intelligent enough to understand that her actions, along with the actions of the greek half-bloods had probably ostracized Percy. She had basically taken Percy for granted, especially after he had saved her from the Pit. He had woken up more than once in a cold sweat with a scream and a shout. At first it had been tolerable, but as time passed Annabeth had felt herself grow tired of trying to support Percy. She had tried to get him to open up to her, but the memories must have still been fresh in his mind. Now, there was little doubt in her mind that she had given up on trying to help him too soon.

The daughter of Athena gripped herself to the point of pain and admonished her own impatience. She had hurt Percy by basically abandoning him for her work. In a way, she could be seen as one to blame since she should have been the one to notice something was wrong when he first disappeared. It should have been _her_ who went out and looked. _Her_ who tried to appeal to the gods and to push for information. But it hadn't been her. She had followed in Thalia's steps for that specific operation. It had been Thalia who had so ardently looked for Percy.

"I honestly would never have believed it if I hadn't seen that you practically had no rebuttal to Ahriman's claims. You should have been there for him." With that said, Thalia walked away from everybody and plopped herself down near the large doors of the throne room.

The minor gods in the room had all gone back to talking amongst themselves during Thalia's confrontation, but were silenced once more once Zeus spoke up.

"While it is truly a great detriment that Perseus has been abducted, I believe that a quest could be issued by the Oracle to save him. It is unclear whether or not the Fates can intervene in the affairs of other religions, however Apollo seems to be of the inclination that because one of our own is involved there is a possibility that Perseus could be recovered that way. The demigods gathered should not tarry if they wish for the safety of the young hero though. I think it would be wise to consult Miss Dare as soon as possible."

"I agree. Standing here and wallowing in self-pity or regret will not bring back the Hero of Olympus. If we want results we should be proactive in this endeavor." Dionysus said, rubbing his chin as he thought about the situation.

"But even if we do get him back what are your plans for him? Do you honestly think that he'll just want to come back and be incarcerated once again? I don't know about you but I wouldn't be too accepting of that idea," Lou Ellen stated with her arms crossed.

The Olympians all looked at one another. The question was a fair one, considering that they had treated Percy quite poorly for the last three weeks. The situation had been discussed in depth between one another shortly after everybody had been transported to the throne room after the battle. While the discussion had been heated the fourteen strongest gods had come to a consensus.

It was Hestia who addressed those gathered. She sat on her throne in her godly height and age, though she still wore her traditional brown robe. She had forgone the shawl that she occasionally wore when she was in her younger form, and so her hair fell around her in a slightly curly fashion. Her eyes were alight and burning like embers of a fire. She spoke softly, but her words were authoritative nonetheless. This caused many of the demigods to look at her with slight surprise, as well as some gods.

"It was decided that we shall not be attempting to subvert the prophecy any longer. Many of us have seen that no matter what happens fate always seems to get the upper hand. As such, we will not be forcing Percy to accept godhood or take an oath on the Styx. Instead we will prepare our best for the upcoming tribulations, to ensure that we will not be caught off-guard by any kind of attacks," the eldest child of Kronos and Rhea stated.

The rest of the Olympians nodded their heads to show their acceptance of Hestia's words, and the Goddess of the Hearth smiled softly at her family. "We made a mistake, and caused our young hero much suffering. Hopefully we can atone in the future when we find him once more. I'm sure that he will be forgiving, it is simply his nature."

"When will the Romans be learning of this?" Annabeth asked suddenly. She had noticed that no Roman demigod was currently in attendance, making the daughter of Athena frown slightly.

"We were planning on bringing the officers up to Olympus after our meeting with our Greek children was done. We would like to speak to them in our Roman aspects, and to explain the steps being taken to correct what has happened," Athena responded.

As Annabeth went to say something else, Iris disappeared from the room in a sparkle of color. A rainbow took the place of where she was and floated throughout the room. Her sudden actions caused many people to cock their heads or brows in confusion. Some seconds passed before the goddess reappeared, looking quite shocked. Thin beads of sweat rolled down her beautiful visage as she looked shakily at Zeus and gave him a deep bow.

"My lord, t-there is someone w-w-who would like to meet with you," the Goddess of Rainbows and Messages said in a shaky voice. Her eyes darted around the room and many gods looked at her in consternation.

Zeus quirked his eyebrow and spoke, "Oh? Who would this person be then? We are in the middle of an important meeting, and I fail to see who deserves my attention while it is still in session."

Iris shook her head. "I believe the council would like to meet with him. His name is Indra, King of the Hindu Devas."

* * *

 _With Percy…_

"How much longer do you think he's going to be out?" A voice asked, causing Percy to stir. He noticed the voice was feminine, and he felt like he recalled it from somewhere before. The Hero of Olympus felt his throat extremely dry as he tried to swallow a bit of saliva to moisten it. Memories came back to him in jumbled, fragmented pieces. The teen moved his head to the side and tried to open his eyes, only to shut them immediately due to the light that pierced his vision.

"It might take some time. You _did_ stab him through the heart," Another voice replied, this one also sounding quite familiar to Percy.

"Oh please. He dodged at the last second. Sure he bled everywhere but I didn't destroy his heart." The woman's voice bit back, her tone slightly accusatory.

Percy heard a door open and the two continued to talk about other things as they left the room that Percy assumed he was currently in. He heard the door shut and once again cracked his eyes open, squinting heavily so as to not be blinded once again. Percy moved his arms around on the soft material that he was lying on, and reached up to get a feel for his torso. According to the man's voice, he had been stabbed very close to the heart. It was a pleasant surprise for the young man then when he didn't feel much pain coming from his chest. There was a slight dull ache, one that permeated his whole body, but no sharp pain or incredible discomfort. Running a hand over the left side of his body, Percy could feel a rough and uneven patch of skin.

The teen lifted his head somewhat slowly, and blinked multiple times to adjust to his surroundings. Opening his eyes wide for the first time, Percy noted that he was in a very comfortable looking room. It was quite large overall, being perhaps 30x36 feet. The room was lavishly furnished, with dark marble walls and a polished hardwood floor. There were several tasteful rugs around the furniture of the room. Plush chairs that looked straight out of the Victorian era were scattered throughout the room. Some were adorned with gold embroidery while others had armrests. On the walls hung a few large paintings of natural scenery.

Percy swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and noticed that the room had a certain fresh pine smell to it, making him think of a forest. The hero gripped his head in one hand as he recalled how exactly he had gotten wherever he was. He had been fighting Angra Mainyu, but the God of Evil had summoned a woman to fight for him. Scáthach of Dún Scáith had been the woman who had fought Percy on Ahriman's behalf. Percy winced as he recounted how she had practically steamrolled him. He had only landed a couple of solid hits, though none of them were debilitating in any way. Hell he hadn't even drawn blood on her.

The fight had been painfully one-sided in favor of the witch. The fight had lasted several minutes but Percy felt like it had taken a lot longer. His blood pounded as he recalled the power behind each strike that he had sent her way, and how Scáthach had reciprocated in kind. Looking back on the fight though Percy realized that the woman could have probably finished things a lot faster. Not only did she have that incredibly dangerous finishing move, but she outclassed him in practically every other way. The only boon that he had was his raw strength. Thanks to the curse he was able to push himself past her level on that front.

But therein lied the problem. Without the power that the curse granted him, he would have absolutely no way to defeat Scáthach should they fight again. Of course that was taking into consideration that they meet once more. Percy ran his eyes across the room, taking note of the coffered ceiling and the large windows that had their curtains drawn. It suddenly dawned on him that the voices he had heard were those of both Scáthach and Angra Mainyu. His mind raced at the implications.

' _I've been captured by them. But why? What do they want? Angra Mainyu said he wanted to collect on the deal, but he saved me from Kampê's poison after I was being turned into a kebab. I can only assume that he also healed me after Scáthach skewered me with Gáe Bolg.'_ Percy's thoughts grew jumbled as he tried to figure out the motive for his abduction.

Percy pushed himself off of the ridiculously comfortable bed, standing on unsteady legs. He took a moment to gain his bearings as his brain turned into putty and his world spun rapidly. He steadied himself on the bed for a few seconds, regaining his senses. Percy moved away from the bed and stepped quietly through the room. He hoped to find some information as to where exactly he was without attracting any attention to himself. If he was quiet enough the odds of him sneaking away from his captors was far better than if he went guns-blazing. It had already been proven to him once that he could not fight Scáthach on even terms. If he were to encounter her then there was little doubt that his attempt to escape would fail horribly, and that he would be once again put through serious pain.

Percy reached the other side of the room with no real problems aside from the discomfort of his throat and a few stumbles to his step. Slowly reaching for the door that resided on the wall, Percy prayed that he wouldn't be stepping into a trap. While it was doubtful that Ahriman would save him twice only to have him killed now, the hero couldn't discount the fact that All the World's Evils probably didn't have his head on straight. Gripping the golden door handle, Percy turned it slowly, and pushed the door open with caution. Peaking inside the room, it was made clear that Percy's fears were slightly unfounded.

Opening the door the rest of the way, the young man entered what was now identified as the bathroom. Walking across the tile, Percy noted the luxurious amenities that the bathroom held. Marble countertops, a tub literally carved out of the floor, and a rain shower with body jets all made the room look upscale and posh. Percy made his way to the mirror and peered at himself.

He looked relatively fine, at least as fine as one could look after having fought against the God of Evil and his super-powered servant. Percy noted that he was free of grime, and that while his clothes were torn and bloody, his body was relatively clean. Pulling his shirt off, the son of Poseidon saw the scar that now took residence on the left side of his chest. It was an ugly thing, a permanent reminder that he had lost horribly against Scáthach. Without the interference of Ahriman, the Hero of Olympus knew that he would be dead. Percy also took note of the thin scar that was placed directly over his sternum. He ran his hand over it, and felt that it wasn't nearly as bad as the other wound.

The scar left from Gáe Bolg was both raised and at the same time slightly sunken in different spots. It left was somewhat circular, but the shape wasn't very defined. The scar from Kampê was only a small white line that wasn't very noticeable. Sighing, the hero was about to pull his shirt back on when a voice stopped him cold.

"Major atrophic and minor hypertrophic scarring from Gáe Bolg. Minuscule atrophic scarring from the monster's scimitar. Overall it looks pretty bad," Scáthach's voice sounded casual as she leaned against the door frame with her arms crossed.

Percy looked over to her, his hand shooting into his pocket and taking out Riptide in pen form. He held the pen close and got ready to uncap it at a moment's notice. Scáthach noticed the action and quirked her eyebrow at the Hero of Olympus. She shook her head and snorted softly to herself before speaking.

"If I wanted to fight don't you think you would be on the floor already Young Hero?" The woman questioned. She gave Percy a knowing look, one which caused the teen to lower his pen, though he still kept his guard prepared.

"Where am I?" Percy asked, his voice low. He narrowed his eyes as Scáthach pushed herself off of the door frame and made her way towards him. The witch of Dún Scáith moved past him and picked his shirt off of the countertop. She held it out to him, and Percy slowly moved his hand forward to grab it. He uttered a quick thanks before he snatched it from the witch's hand.

"Would you like to put that back on, or would you like some attire that is in better condition?" The magenta-haired woman queried. Seeing that Percy was still hesitant she sighed and held up her hands in surrender.

"I understand that things are probably a bit confusing for you now young Hero but I'm going to have to ask you to trust me when I say that you'll understand in time." She said in a calm but stern voice, looking at the teen standing before her. The witch stared at his sea-green eyes, not wavering even when he gave her a small glare. His eyes flared with anger and distrust for a moment.

"Riiiight, because trusting the person who put a hole in my chest is really the logical thing to do here huh?" The boy asked with obvious sardonicism lacing his tone. He lost some of the heat in his eyes though as Scáthach gave him a very small smile.

"I'm glad that you can find it in yourself to be sarcastic in these times. Your mental fortitude is quite strong, and that is a boon for you. You'll need to be strong for the future," Scáthach said dismissively. She walked out the door and into the bedroom once more, looking behind her to see if Percy was following.

Seeing that the witch was unarmed and that what she said about attacking him was true, Percy grudgingly followed his captor. He took a good look at her now, and saw that she was wearing a white blouse with the sleeves rolled up. Her legs were encased in form-fitting black jeans and she wore green slippers in the shape of a dragon head on her feet. He cocked his brow at seeing the odd choice of footwear, causing the woman to chuckle slightly as she noticed his expression.

"Something wrong Young Hero?"

Percy frowned at the way she addressed him, and made to rebuff her, "Why are you calling me 'Young Hero' all the time now?"

Scáthach set her gaze upon the son of Poseidon, causing him a small amount of discomfort as he stood stiff. Her red eyes roamed over his face, finally settling on his eyes. The two stood still for some time, Scáthach crossing her arms as she stared at Percy's green irides. Shuffling a bit in place, Percy felt like he was being judged by the woman before him. He was about to say something when Scáthach narrowed her eyes and grabbed his arm. She dragged him over to a dresser that was off to the side, ignoring Percy's cry of indignation.

"I have seen a great many warriors during the time that I've lived Perseus. I can see who has the potential to be a hero, and who has the potential to be a True Hero. You are already on the path to becoming the latter, I can see it in your eyes." Scáthach said as she gestured towards the dresser with her hand. "You can pick out a new set of clothes from here. Hopefully you find something that you like."

"Wait!" Percy called as the woman made to walk out of the room. Turning back around, Scáthach motioned for him to continue his train of thought. "What's the difference between a hero and a True Hero? And why are you even telling me all of this?" Percy questioned.

The silence in the room was deafening. Scáthach held an odd expression on her face as she let her eyes lock onto something seemingly far away. Her face became blank, but she broke out of her reverie soon enough and heaved a large, exasperated sigh. Letting a melancholic smile cross her face, Scáthach directed her attention to Percy.

"You know, my former student asked the exact same questions as you. He never was satisfied with what I told him, but even so I will tell you the same thing, knowing you shall not be content with the answer." She turned around and called out behind her as she left the room. "I will ask you the same question that you asked when the time is right, I want you to answer me then." With that said, the witch of Dún Scáith walked out the door, closing it behind her.

Percy continued to stare at the door for several minutes as he mulled over what the magenta-haired woman had said. He shook his head in frustration as he filed away her "answer" for later. The teen opened the dresser and found that it was full of men's clothing. He looked through the items that were stowed away before choosing something practical. He pulled on a green t-shirt and blue jeans, tossing aside his ruined and dirty clothing. Percy opened the armoire that stood next to the dresser, and found a nice gray jacket that he thought would go well with his outfit.

When all was said and done, Percy inspected himself in the mirror that was attached to the inside of the armoire. Noticing a pair of fluffy shark slippers, Percy decided that he might as well get comfortable if he was going to be held captive. The way he was being treated by Ahriman and Scáthach was a far cry from how the Olympians had treated him when he was being held by them. Sighing to himself, the teen closed the doors to the wardrobe and figured he might as well find out what Ahriman wanted with him. While he was apprehensive, Percy knew that there must have been a reason for all the trouble that the God of Evil had gone through in bringing him here.

The son of Poseidon stepped out of the bedroom that he had woken up in, out the same door that Scáthach had exited from. He found himself in a large hallway. Percy gaped at the sheer scale of the corridor. The ceiling was a good thirty feet high, with large prism glass chandeliers, each with five layers hanging from the ceiling. There were multiple chandeliers that ran down the entire length of the hallway, illuminating the area with a soft and mellow glow. The walls of the hall were covered with paintings and mirrors. Some busts lined the hall in a staggered manner, each one made out of marble no doubt.

Overall, Percy couldn't help but feel like he was in a mansion of some kind. The atmosphere felt opulent as he wandered down the hall. The floor was covered with a long red carpet with golden stitches on the sides. The temperature felt quite comfortable, and Percy couldn't help but feel very cozy and relaxed as he walked, taking in the pictures and occasionally stopping to admire the busts. Soft music filled the air the further that Percy walked. The distinct sound of a piano being played further added to the "homey" feel of the giant house. The son of Poseidon moved a bit quicker as he heard the notes being played. He wasn't sure of the work, but it certainly sounded like it was composed by a famous German composer.

Percy finally reached a pair of double doors at the end of the hall, and pushed them open with slight anxiety. The room that greeted him was far larger than the bedroom he had just been in by a fair margin. The room was some sort of large living area, going off of the quantity of couches and chairs that took residence in the room. There was a fireplace on the far back wall, crackling with orange flames. There were a few tables interspersed throughout the area, each being made of polished mahogany. Percy noticed that there were four people in the room, each doing their own activity.

Scáthach sat near the fireplace, her legs crossed with the dragon slippers being illuminated by the flames as they leapt in the air. The witch had her head on her fist as she rested her elbow on the arm of the chair, and with her other hand she head a book open. Her eyes were glued to the text that she was currently and therefore she didn't see Percy enter the room. The shadows moved around her form as the light didn't reach part of her face, and Percy noted how she idly fiddled with her hair occasionally.

Sitting off to the far left was a man in armor as black as pitch. The armor he wore was that of a European knight from the 15th or 16th century. The plate armor looked slightly beaten and worn, though still in fine condition. There were very small gold accents to the armor around the gauntlets and helm. The knight did not look over encumbered in his armor, as it lacked any form of pauldrons _(1)_ or besagews _(2)_ , which were usually used to protect the shoulders and armpits respectively. Instead of those attachments, the knight took to wearing a set of lightweight spaulders _(3)_. The black knight turned his head when Percy entered the room. Percy nodded to the knight, who nodded back in return, before continuing to stare out the window as he had been doing previously. The knight had crossed his arms behind his back, and even though his face was covered, Percy got the feeling that he was contemplating something.

Percy turned his view away from the black knight and found another person sitting near the center of the room. He was had distinctly far-eastern features, and was flipping through his cell phone with a bored look about him. His hair was medium length, black, and slicked back, and his eyes were a lively deep blue color. He turned to look at Percy, and his face seemingly lit up as the two locked eyes. He gave the Hero of Olympus a smile and a thumbs up before returning to his phone, though his mood was seemingly lifted a bit. The man was clad in grey sweatpants and a blue hoodie. While his face said "professional", his attire said "stay at home dad".

The last person that Percy saw was also perhaps the one who he hoped would answer all of the questions that now swirled inside the demigod's mind. Ahriman sat on a plush chair, his feet up on an ottoman as he read through the newspaper. He wore a blue dress shirt and classic khaki pants. The sleeves of his shirt were folded up, and an expensive looking, analog wristwatch adorned his wrist. Brown loafers finished the smart getup that the God of Evil was currently rocking. Percy had to admire the deity for his sense of fashion if nothing else.

Angra Mainyu looked up from his paper and smiled when he saw Percy. He stood up, and immediately all eyes went to him and the aforementioned son of Poseidon. Placing the newspaper down, Angra Mainyu walked to where Percy stood, making the demigod tense up. Seeing this, the god stopped several feet from Percy and opted to talk to him from a more cautious distance.

"I'm glad to see that you made it here okay. I was hoping you would follow the sound of the music," Ahriman chuckled to himself. "If you had gone the other direction you might have been gone for hours trying to find you way around. This house is quite large, and getting lost isn't very difficult."

"Yeah, that's great and everything, but I've been having a real tough time figuring things out on my own. So if you could just go ahead and fill me in on what the hell's going on, I'd appreciate it." Percy said tersely. He warily eyed the other occupants of the room as they all pointedly ignored the two conversing persons after Percy moved his attention to them.

"Getting right to the point I see, very brusque of you." The deity said with an impish smirk. "Alright then, welcome Percy, to Purgatory. I do hope you enjoy your stay."

Percy almost did a double take at hearing Angra Mainyu's proclamation. As it was, he only sputtered for a second before he regained some of his composure. "Purgatory!?"

The ancient god only chuckled at his reaction and gestured with his hand at the surrounding area. "Yes, we are in Purgatory right now. It is where I made my home after having decided to allow Spenta Mainyu to reside on earth. This is a separate dimension, as Tartarus is from earth."

Percy looked around the room, then back at the God of Evil. Upon seeing Ahriman point to one of the windows that lined the walls, Percy walked towards it. The curtains were drawn, and when Percy moved them aside, he realized that there was at least some truth to what his captor was saying. Outside the window were trees that reached the heavens. The sky was dark and gloomy, and rain poured down upon the forest. All of the trees were bare and white, as if they had been dead for quite some time already, and the winds that howled shook their branches. A layer of fog seemed to encroach upon every aspect of the immediate area, and even with the rain and wind it still hung low to the ground.

Moving back from the window, Percy shook his head in disbelief. He looked back at Ahriman, who just shrugged at him. Slowly, Percy made his way back to the god.

"Perhaps you should sit down for this. I'm sure you've been in better condition before. You might also be feeling some side effects from me cursing you with full humanity." The God of Evil said nonchalantly. Immediately, Percy whipped his head around with his eyes wide and fearful.

"You did what!?" He shouted, causing those in the room to flinch from the volume. The son of Poseidon grabbed his pen and poised himself to attack.

Ahriman noticed the action and only gave a short bark of laughter. He shook his head and rubbed the side of his face. "I completely forgot that I gave you that pen so you wouldn't panic too much. I thought you would have noticed by now," the deity said with a soft chuckle at the end of his statement.

Percy seemed confused for a moment, before the memory of Anaklusmos breaking due to Gáe Bolg rushed back to him. The young man stared down at the pen he was currently holding, and clenched his fist in anger. True enough, the pen in his hand was a cheap utensil that was incomparable with the majesty that once was Riptide. Dropping the imposter, Percy glared at Ahriman with deep contempt.

In response, the well dressed deity held up his hands in defeat. "I suppose tricking you like that was a bit uncalled for, but I did have your best intentions in mind. I felt that you might feel a bit exposed without having your trusted weapon with you, so I snuck a pen into you pocket when you were unconscious. I thought that you would have remembered what happened though."

"I remember now. Anaklusmos was broken, by Scáthach over there." Percy said tilting his head in the witch's direction. He didn't bother to look at her though, and instead kept his eyes trained onto Angra Mainyu.

"I see you found the shark slippers," the god noted with amusement.

"I was fine with just my socks, but then I figured I might as well get comfortable if I'm gonna be held captive," Percy snarked. "Especially if I'm not a demigod anymore."

At that, Ahriman turned uncharacteristically serious as he stared back at the hero. "I did what needed to be done. Curses are much less effective when used on divine beings, which includes demigods. Oh sure they still work, but at half their original potency. The more divinity a being has, the harder to effectively curse. Me saving your life twice… well… all curses carry a price."

Percy digested the information that he had been given. In order for Ahriman to properly save his life, the god had needed to take away the rest of Percy's divinity. To verify, the hero tried to feel around the environment for water, but found that he felt no connection to his once natural element. Sinking into the closest chair, Percy let his head fall into his hands.

"... Why am I even here?" He finally asked after a long silence.

"I need your help," Ahriman responded instantly. The deity saw Percy's head shoot up and his eyes shoot a murderous glare. The young man's features were twisted into a vicious snarl as he angrily spat at Ahriman.

"Why the fuck should I help you!? All you've done is bring me pain, you don't deserve my help." The once-demigod balled his fists and resisted the urge to attack the Zoroastrian on the spot.

"It's not just for me, you'll be helping the world as a whole," Angra Mainyu stated. Percy faltered at that, and narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"What do you mean?" He asked, his voice purveying his doubts.

Holding up a hand, Angra Mainyu signalled for Percy to calm down. The son of Poseidon clenched his jaw, but nonetheless he bit his tongue, effectively stopping whatever words that may have made their way out.

"Before we talk more about that particular subject, allow me to first introduce you to the two that you don't know here." Ahriman said as he gestured to the knight in black armor. Said knight straightened and gave a small bow, with one arm crossed in front of him and the other behind his back. Percy could tell that the bow pointed to the knight being some kind of royalty, seeing as how it was so fluid even though the knight wore the full plate armor. The armor made some noise as he bowed, and then a bit more once the Black Knight straightened.

"That there is Mordred, the one who dealt the fatal wound to King Arthur. I met Mordred many years prior to the fateful battle, and offered a choice of power to the Black Knight just as I did to you in order to oppose King Arthur. Obviously Mordred made the choice and took the deal just like you did, and the rest is history as they say," Ahriman explained as he took a final glance at the Knight of Betrayal. Percy stood in shock as he gazed upon the famous, or rather, infamous, figure that was living and breathing before him. The knight walked forward and stood some inches away from Percy.

Behind the visor of the armet _(4)_ that the knight wore, Percy was sure that his eyes were burning holes in the young man. Mordred stood a few inches taller that Percy did, and Percy was unsure whether this was because the armor or if it was his natural height. The son of Poseidon was perhaps around six feet, give or take an inch, meaning that Mordred must have been at least six foot three inches. The sabatons, which protected the feet of the wearer, didn't seem to be very thick, meaning that there was probably little height added that way.

The Knight of Betrayal extended his arm, and waited for Percy to do the same. Once the former demigod realized what Mordred was after, he grasped the gauntleted hand with his own in an uncertain handshake. Of course Percy could only feel the cold steel that greeted his hand, and noticed that the Black Knight didn't really tighten his grip. Percy was grateful for this, seeing as the knight could probably crush his hand if he squeezed to tightly.

"'Tis good to see a fresh face amongst us once more. This knight has heard some good words spoken of you from the witch, and I do so hope that you can prove to me that her praise is not misplaced. She herself can fight like a demoness, and she tells me thou art trained in the way of the sword. While I find no fault with her spear, this knight prefers to battle with a blade. Thy will make a fine addition if thy prowess with a sword is as refined as Scáthach hath implied." Mordred spoke, his voice was deep and there was a dark timbre that tinted his speech. It sounded slightly gravelly, and there was a metallic tinge in it as well. Percy recalled that Zoё Nightshade had spoken in the same pseudo-archaic dialect of English as Mordred did.

"Ah, uh, thanks I guess. But I wouldn't get your hopes up of me staying here long enough to fight with you," Percy replied without remorse.

"Perhaps not," the knight nodded. "But thou must understand already, that in order to escape Purgatory, one must defeat all those present, and from there find a route that will lead back to earth. Without Angra Mainyu assisting in one's departure, there is but a sliver of hope for absconding away from this wretched dimension. You may have impressed the witch, however did thou not fall to her during the final clash? Talented thou may be, however doth thou believe that this knight is a fainéant? _(5)_ "

Percy tried to comprehend everything that had just been said, but unfortunately he couldn't quite keep up with what was being spoken. He blinked a few times before shaking his head and sighing. "Listen, I'm sure you just gave me a warning not to do anything stupid, but I really didn't catch half of what you just said."

"See this is why I told you to get rid of that archaic speech pattern. You were doing well for some time, but you just stopped with the lessons on contemporary American English! You just self-taught yourself that weird Shakesperean crap that just serves to make you sound like a pompous ass!" Scáthach exclaimed in frustration, putting her book down.

Mordred shook his head and crossed his arms. "If this knight recalls properly, thou didst so attempt to instruct me on the Southern variety of American English. It was fortuitous that I managed to see through your ploy and put a stop to it before it could go any further."

At that Scáthach could only shrug and offer and insincere smile. "It would have made for a pretty funny situation though you have to admit."

Angra Mainyu cleared his throat and brought attention to himself once more. While he seemed to be amused by the banter he refocused the conversation back to what it was on previously. "Percy, the other member you haven't yet met is Muramasa here." The God of Evil gestured to the casually dressed man who had been playing on his phone when Percy first entered the grand room.

The newly named Muramasa stepped towards Percy and gave him a firm pat on the back. Percy almost fell forward as the strength of the blows landed on him, and the son of Poseidon was sure that he had felt some pops go off in his spine. Percy was unsure as to why everybody was greeting him as if he were a longtime friend or something of that nature. It perturbed the young man that Mordred and Muramasa had apparently just accepted him into whatever group that Ahriman had formed.

"I heard about you from Scáthach as well Perseus. She told me that your sword had broken during your fight with her. Don't worry about that though, I can go ahead melt it down to recast it if you have the broken pieces. I do so love working with Celestial Bronze nowadays. Some centuries ago, I couldn't get my hands on any of the stuff. Do you know how hard it is to import magical metals into your extremely isolationist country during a time when the Shinto trinity had an embargo on foreign ideas and religions? I doubt you do, but let me tell you, it's hard. I actually got caught by Kagutsuchi, the God of Fire at one point, but after telling him why I wanted the metals, well he challenged me to make him the finest sword that I could! Let me tell you, crafting a sword for a god is nerve wracking," Muramasa said with a glint in his eye that showed that the man was off in his own memories. Percy backed up a few paces with his eyebrow raised.

"Uh, right. I take it you beat the god then?" Percy asked out of curiosity. He only knew a few things about Muramasa, mostly what he gleaned from one of Annabeth's rants about the cultural exchange from Greece all the way to Japan due to the Silk Road. She had gone on and on about how the iconography for some gods of Japan could be traced back to the west and their own depictions of certain gods. Percy felt a pang of guilt at having forgotten about the Greeks back home for the duration of his stay in Purgatory. Even though he had felt alone for the past year at the camp, he also couldn't bring himself to hate his friends.

He knew that Annabeth still loved him, but that she just couldn't handle seeing him slowly break down due to the stress of war. He had wanted to tell her everything, but he felt that she would feel guilty for what happened in Tartarus. It hadn't been her fault after all, it had been a mix of terrible luck and the interference of a certain Zoroastrian god that had made Percy experience hell. There was a problem though, and that problem was one he was hoping would resolve itself with time.

Percy had inadvertently developed a romantic interest in his cousin, Thalia.

' _That will be a joy to explain. With any luck I'll get over it soon enough.'_

To say that he was currently suffering a small crisis of conscience would have been putting it mildly. He knew that he had strong feelings for Annabeth, hell he would probably always have something for her. He had heard many times that you can never really stop loving somebody once you start. Sure, things may not pan out the way they were planned, but even after some schism, there would still be something left behind. It had hurt when Annabeth had gotten so involved with her architectural planning that he had become a side thought, that was certain. Thalia had been there for him when everybody else had not. She had been his rock, his best friend during the peace that followed the wars.

He could never repay what she had done for him during that time, and he really wished that he could. Thalia already had a place in heart from the Second Titanomachy. Then she had gone and dug her way deeper if possible when she offered him the one thing he wanted most after the wars. She offered him an escape from his constant anxiety, and from the crippling isolation that plagued him. Thalia Grace had been his light for that time, and now he had gone and fucked it all up with his usual Kelp Headedness.

Percy was brought back to the present by Muramasa speaking. "Yeah, I made him a sword fit for the gods! It was gifted to Hachiman, the war god, as Kagutsuchi's peace offering for doing something stupid if I recall. I dunno if the old war dog still uses the thing, but I can say that it was definitely my finest work," Muramasa said with thinly veiled disenchantment, his eyes gained a far away look to them as he got lost in remembrance.

Percy cocked his eyebrow at the old swordsmith and heard a deep metallic chuckle come from the dread knight that stood a few feet to his left.

"At times this knight ponders whether Muramasa will let his delusions of grandeur remain in the past. He oft loses himself in memory when orating his past, though this knight can not say that his quirks remit his abilities with regards to smithing and bladework." Mordred said in his menacing timbre. Percy suppressed a shudder as he heard the dread knight speak, and turned his fill attention to Muramasa.

"Come off it Mordred, we're all guilty of being slaves to the past in one way or another. You can't honestly say that you-" Scáthach was interrupted when Mordred spoke once more.

"And when didst this sinner say that the past does not beget horrors in my mind at times?" Mordred asked with what Percy could only assume was amusement.

Ahriman was quick to intervene as he felt the tension rise slightly in the room. "Introductions are over for now, seeing as how you've come to know those in Purgatory at the moment. Genghis Khan and Lü Bu are currently running some surveillance on earth to see what the situation is like."

"Genghis Khan? As in the man who practically formed the largest land empire that the world has ever seen? That Genghis Khan?" Percy asked, once again beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed as he had when he had met Mordred. Apparently Angra Mainyu was a collector of renowned figures from history and legend.

"The one and same. You'll meet them later don't worry. For now let's get down to brass tacks. You wanted to know why you were here? SImple, as I said. I -the world- needs your help Percy. My brother is building his forces, garnering many allies, and soon he'll make himself known to the world once again." Ahriman explained in a flat tone.

"Your brother as in Spenta Mainyu? All the World's Good? Why are we scared of him again?" Percy asked in obvious confusion.

"Because he blames humanity and myself for causing Ahura Mazda to fade. He plans to wage war against the me in a personal vendetta for his _Wise Lord_. In his crusade he plans on destroying both the mundane and the divine in order to bring about the final good to the world. He finally accepted that the good in the world will fade eventually, and that evil grows ever stronger. He cannot accept this, it is contrary -anathema- to his very nature. Ahura Mazda created him to help spread light and goodness, and to combat the unending evil that taints the universe. However, Ahura Mazda was afraid that Spenta Mainyu would be lost without proper guidance. Therefore, he limited the amount of power Spenta Mainyu could gain from the good of the world, and instead had him rely on the goodwill of the _Wise Lord_ himself instead."

Percy interjected before Ahriman could continue. "Wait, you came first? If he was created to fight you…"

"I did come before my brother. He was created one hundred years after me, give or take a few for good measure."

"Why didn't Ahura Mazda create him at the same time he created you? I mean, you _are_ All the World's Evils. Wouldn't creating All the World's Good at the same time make the most sense if he was meant to combat you and your influence? He just let you rampage around for a hundred years unchecked?" At this point, Percy was questioning the legitimacy of the story that Angra Mainyu was weaving. He doubted that somebody name the 'Wise Lord' would create Angra Mainyu and let him roam free for a hundred years before making something that could fight him.

Angra Mainyu adopted a dangerous look to him, and he unwittingly let out a small amount of his potent, hate-filled power. Percy instinctively took a step back at the feeling of imminent dread and evil that poisoned the entire room. It had happened in the blink of an eye. The room had gone from warm and homey, to dark and positively frightening within the span of a second. The air was filled with cries of despair and anger, and the shadows seemed to grow and undulate on their own accord, as if they were sentient. Percy felt a bead of sweat fall to his brow as he almost vomited due to the sheer malice that was present and sticking to his skin like oil onto canvas. He wanted to buckle under the terrifying force, but he was supported by Mordred, who placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

Percy blinked and the immediate area had gone back to it's original atmosphere. The fire crackled brilliantly in the fireplace, with the occasional pop of the wood accompanying the soft piano music that was still playing. Scáthach had lifted her head and was glaring daggers at Ahriman, along with Muramasa who had come back to the present sometime during Percy and Ahriman's talk. Mordred still held onto Percy, his grip still stronger than iron shackles.

"Ah, sorry about that. The subject you broached was a bit sensitive. To understand your question, first you must understand the way I was… _created_. Listen well, I don't like to repeat myself on this and I know that your head is full of algae." Ahriman said with uncharacteristic harshness. "I was not created in the way you are thinking. I was once a simple boy living in my village in ancient Persia. I loved to play games with the other children, but I was fairly unpopular because of my sense of justice. I always told the truth, and that led to some of the children in the village to get into trouble because I would go to their parents and report any wrongdoings. This sense of justice carried with me all through adolescence, and I was resented by many people after some time.

It was during my fifteenth year of life that I was approached by the Lord himself. Ahura Mazda came to me while I was bathing in the small river by my village, and he said to me 'I see a great light within you my child. Are you frightened of me? Perhaps you should be, for I am Ahura Mazda.' Well, I was pretty scared admittedly, but I got on my knees and told him 'My lord, I am quite afraid, but I am sure you have reason to seek me out. Please tell me your will so that I may carry it out for you.' I suppose my own sense of duty to the Wise Lord led me to believe that I was worthy of serving him in some way.

Anyway, we spoke for a few minutes as he asked me questions about myself, even though he already knew all the answers. After that he proclaimed 'I would like to ask a task of you.' I responded with an overzealous nod and a thousand thanks for choosing me to assist him. He then said 'I fear that the world grows more and more corrupt as time passes. It is time for some of that evil to be taken away from humanity. However, I need a vessel for all of the evils that the world has to offer, and unfortunately I will need to make it a living human. Can I entrust you to be that vessel? Your light is blinding in this world of darkness, and I can not think of a better person to carry this burden.' I was hesitant at first mind you, but in the end I accepted." Ahriman glanced at his hands as he spoke. He lifted one hand to examine it, as if entranced by the look of his skin.

"Well, I got what I agreed to. He cursed me to carry some of the evil that resided inside of each person so that they would be burdened less. I fell to my knees in pain, and writhed in the water for hours. When I regained my bearings Ahura Mazda, my Lord, was gone. I went back to the village and tried my best to live my life normally. Unfortunately it was not to be. Somebody had overheard my conversation with the Wise Lord, and had therefore told the village of what I was. The elders of the village could not accept that the Wise Lord himself would curse me as he had, since he was supposed to be infinitely merciful. As such, the believed that I had made some kind of agreement with a demon instead. I was dragged out of my home, my own parents and siblings allowing me to be taken. The village had gathered and placed a shrine to Ahura Mazda in the center of town. I was nailed through my arms to a wooden shack that was directly across from the monument. Everyday, people from the village would come and carve the names of sins and crimes into my skin with a sharp, heated obsidian. I prayed to Ahura Mazda to help me, to let it be known that I had not conspired with a demon.

I prayed for seventy long years. The Lord could not allow me to die after all, since if I did I would release the world's evil, and he would have to find somebody else to take it. The curse could only be given to those willing few who would do something so selfless that would burden them for the rest of their lives. Every time I was about to die, Ahura Mazda would breathe life back into my broken body. This only reinforced the idea that I was working with demons in the villagers' minds. I lived most of my mortal life shackled and tortured, always in pain and always wondering why my god had forsaken me. The light inside me finally died, and just as Ahura Mazda went to resurrect me on the day of my seventieth year of torture, I embraced the full extent of all of the evil inside my body and soul. I died that day, and was reborn a God of Evil. I accepted my domain so completely and utterly that through sheer will I defied fate itself and twisted my soul to become immortal. Hatred became my default emotion. I did not hate anybody or anything in particular, I just hated everything non discrepantly. _That_ is how I was created."

Percy said nothing. He stared at the god before him with incredulity, and with a heavy amount of pity. The son of Poseidon was shocked to have learned of the true origin of the Zoroastrian God of Evil, but he knew there was more to the story.

"Weren't you going to tell Perseus exactly what he was needed here for? So far we've gotten nowhere with that conversation." Scáthach complained with a bored voice. She casually flicked through the pages of her book as if she didn't care about what she had just heard coming from Angra Mainyu.

"Yes, good idea. Listen well Percy, Spenta Mainyu will come back, and he _will_ do everything in his power to destroy All the World's Evils. If I die then the world will be plagued once more by the release of the massive amount of sin that has built up in my soul. Truthfully I hardly care if that happens, but I made a promise to somebody long ago that I intend to keep. As such I need your help to fight against Spenta Mainyu and his forces when the time comes. The curse of power will now react to you in a more potent manner since you are fully human. Your power will be unparalleled as long as you don't die from overuse," Ahriman said, his voice taking on a noticeably lighter tone as he ended his explanation.

Percy walked over to a plush chair and sat down heavily, breathing a large sigh through his nose. He took several breaths in and out, clearing his mind of all the information that had been piled on him since he had awoken only an hour ago. He needed to think clearly to make proper decisions, and this was certainly something he wanted a clear mind for. What surprised Percy the most was that he was actually torn over whether to accept what Angra Mainyu was essentially offering. Even though Percy could be slow at times as many of his friends liked to point out, he could see what the Zoroastrian was getting at.

He wanted Percy to join the small family that he had built up for himself. Oh sure, Ahriman might never say that the group he had assembled was a family per se, but Percy could see that they acted like they had known each other for a long time, and that Mordred, Scáthach, and Muramasa were all content with one another, and even with the God of Evil himself.

If the son of Poseidon was honest with himself, he felt very tempted to take the offer just after seeing the close knit banter that had gone on between the group. It reminded him of better times, when he was just a Seaweed Brain to those close to him, and not a reminder of war and death. Percy pursed his lips as he felt a tightening in his chest. The memories of the year following the Second Gigantomachy swirled around his mind.

What's further is the fact that in the end, even if joined the God of Evil, he would be helping people in the end. Something deep inside Percy told him that trusting All the World's Evils to have been truthful when he described the problem to Percy was foolhardy. Of course his gut instinct would normally have been right. It had saved him many times before and he would be stupid to ignore the feeling, but something also told Percy to not discredit what Angra Mainyu had said to quickly.

The former demigod looked at the others in the room.

Mordred observed the young man with an intensity that could be felt even through his visor. The dread knight didn't seem to mind that Percy was being offered a position within the group, and if his earlier words were true, he was in fact looking forward to having Percy join. Of course that could be attributed to the Black Knight wanting another fighting partner, but Percy didn't mind too much if that was the only reason.

Muramasa was back on his phone doing whatever it was he did. Percy could see that the man was giving him a very small smile though, even as his finger scrolled through the phone. Their eyes met for a brief moment when the Japanese swordsmith glanced up, and Percy could see the deep wisdom inside of the deep blue eyes.

Turning to Scáthach, Percy saw her looking at him intently, a neutral expression adorning her face. He saw her lip curl ever so slightly once they locked eyes, her red irides peering into his own sea-green. The young man recalled her words right before they clashed weapons on the hill. The words echoed through his mind and brought for a yearning to know exactly what she had been referring to. Her voice was but a whisper of a call, and yet it filled his mind with it's warmth.

 _Your potential is great, now all we need to do is nurture that and watch you reach the heavens._

Percy tore his gaze away and looked back to Ahriman, who was giving him an expectant look. The son of Poseidon decided that in order to further help those, even after being abandoned, he would need the power that Ahriman was offering to help him with. Percy knew that he would grow when in the presence of some of the greatest warriors to ever live. With them he would hopefully reach the heavens just like Scáthach had said. He would do this for those that he left behind on the hill. Those that he had failed, and those that had failed him. He would fight for those who had locked him away on Olympus. Because even with proper justification, the hero couldn't bring himself to despise them as he perhaps should have. His fatal flaw was loyalty, and Percy allowed it to take control of his actions.

With a firm stance and strong eyes, Percy stared directly at Angra Mainyu.

"Deal."

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 **A/N: I hope that Mordred's speech pattern isn't too difficult to follow, but I wanted to test myself with archaic english to build a bit of personality for the dread knight. I'm pretty sure that the Arthurian Legends take place from around 400-500 A.D. but for here Mordred's armor will be from the Late Middle Ages, or around 1500 A.D. I figured that the Knight of Betrayal would only have the best form of protection, and chain mail wasn't quite the most sturdy of material. Plate armor on the other hand, was quite effective against slashing and cutting from blades. I just wanted to show that Mordred adapted a bit from when the legends took place.**

 ** _(1) Large pieces of armor that cover the shoulders and occasionally the armpits. Can be large and gaudy on occasion to save the wearer from glancing blows and piercing thrusts._**

 _ **(2)**_ **_Pieces of circular armor that is worn beneath the armpit in order to protect the vulnerable area._**

 _ **(3) Lightweight shoulder armor. Smaller than pauldrons and used mainly to protect from glancing blows.**_

 _ **(4) Helmet that fully encloses the wearer's head. Popularized in the mid-late fifteenth century. Visor can be flipped up to expose the face of the wearer.**_

 ** _(5) One who is idle or ineffective at something._**


	5. And Yet We're Still Standing

**A/N: Hello and welcome to Chapter 5! Oh and Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to all of you wonderful folks! As per usual I would like to thank those who Follow/Favorite/Review, it always feels nice to know people enjoy the story. On to the obligatory Author's Notes. This chapter honestly only took four or five days to write, but I was on vacation with my friends up in Canada, and I didn't take my laptop. So that's why this took longer than usual to come out. Alas, university is starting up soon again, meaning I'll be occupied with that and my job. Sorry if chapters start coming out slower soon, but that's life.**

 **Last chapter I started a little update board on my profile where I put the amount of words for the next chapter of Burden of the Curse. So if you're ever wondering where the progress is at for the next installment, you can pop by there and check that out. I'll try and update that once a day. If the amount of words didn't change from the prior day, that means I just couldn't write that particular day. With that said, let's talk pairings. Hestia is currently leading the pack with 7 votes, and Annabeth is trailing with 5. I'm pretty glad somebody actually voted for Fem!Kronos and Fem!Hyperion, mostly because those would be the weirdest to write properly seeing as how I would still try to make things as realistic as possible, but obviously some suspension of disbelief would be required. Polls will stay open for quite some time, so keep voting if you want somebody, or hell send a PM if you want somebody who isn't mentioned there. I do want to keep Artemis bound to her oath, so that won't be a thing, sorry folks. I have no problem with Hestia breaking that vow though, or Hera for that matter. Hypocritical? Yes... very.**

 **Okay then, on with the reviews!**

 _ **Reviews:**_

 **averyk- Thank you for all of your kind words. It's interesting that you wanted to punch Zeus, because I was going for him and many of the Olympians being a bit more sympathetic and likeable. Many stories make Zeus, Ares, and Athena just plain cruel, and while that works for many stories, I wanted mine to show that the Olympians have grown a bit thanks to Percy. Sure they're still arrogant, sure they're still paranoid, but they are sympathetic and less prone to random acts of violence than before. Thanks for your review!**

 **spnaph- Ah, my loyal reviewer. Thanks a bunch spnaph! I wanted to write each character a bit different but have them come across as generally a cool bunch. More shall be revealed later about each one, and maybe some of their not-so-chill-pasts. It's funny you should mention what you did about the sea never forgetting one of it's own, because I had a plan that involved a certain somebody not from Greek mythology to take a great deal of interest in Percy because of his former link to the sea. It may not result in him getting his powers back... but something is planned. Congrats on having something figured out there by the way! And Happy Holidays/Merry Christmas to you too!**

 **onepiecefan22- Thanks, I'm glad you're enjoying it!**

 **TheMasterTrident13- Going back and reading through general metalworking sites has made me realize that you are very correct. I decided to fix that from last chapter just to make this feel a bit more authentic. I'm not studied in everything there is to know about the world, but I endeavor to get my facts as accurate as possible, so thank you for pointing that out to me! As for Mordred, I actually have an explanation as to why the Black Knight speaks in that particular fashion. It kinda ties in with the knight's backstory a bit, so we'll get to that point eventually, though I feel like I might need to clarify some things from last chapter just to tidy everything up. I do recall seeing some Old Breton/Welsh (which i assume would be what Mordred spoke back during the Dark Ages) so I know that the language was far different from what was used by the Anglo-Saxon population a millenia afterwards. Thank you though, because as I reread the last chapter I see some small flaws between the dialogue of Scathach and Mordred that I'll get around to addressing. Oh, Merry Christmas to you as well!**

 **myron.x1202- Haha I'm glad that I can get such a reaction from people because of my writing! I'll do my best to update and keep the entertainment flowing, so thanks for your kind words!**

 **Guest- Wow, thank you very much for think so highly of my story. I did have trouble when deciding the rating for this story, but in the end I figured that I would rather have some more freedom with my language and violence (and maybe some sexual situations) than tone it down to appeal to a wider audience. I read stories from all across the rating spectrum, and I just prefer to see people write their story how they want to write it, and not be censored because they put it in a certain category. Thanks for your review and your confidence!**

 **ChillTy- Thank you! I'm glad you like things so far, I'll do my best to keep up my quality of work!**

 **BathoryMotives- Wow, just wow. To think that somebody would even _think_ of comparing my writing to the likes of beautiful works that Herbert and Faulkner... That really is incredible to hear. I write for fun, and when I read something like this it just makes my day. While I do like the pacing as it is (since it allows me to really explore characters and give tons of exposition) I do also realize that the past four chapters (including this one) have taken up nearly 44,000 words or so all in the span of less than twenty four hours. I hope you can forgive me for doing a few timeskips since I can't really make Percy's day to day life in the mansion terribly exciting for the whole time he will spend there. Plus relationships need to be advanced, and I'm an advocate of the tried and true "time builds and destroys all things" motto. There will be more exposition in the following chapters, and even when I get into the action and conflict characters will still be built and destroyed. I won't forsake development for flashy action scenes and fast pacing between fights, though that doesn't mean there won't be huge fights in the future. Thank you so very much for your review, and I'm glad you though this was original and well-written. While I've been told the latter a few times already, I was hoping to provide something a bit fresh to the Percy Jackson page. More to come soon, and I hope to hear your thoughts on later chapters, the good, bad, and the ugly so that I can improve anything that I can!**

* * *

5\. And Yet We're Still Standing

* * *

The echo of steps on polished marble was all that could be heard inside of the Olympian council room. The gathered Greek forces, including both the gods and the half-bloods all parted as the one who was making the noise walked with a purpose towards the tall thrones of the Olympians. Thalia looked up from her lap to see that a tall man striding through the parting crowd with no hesitance in his step. He stood straight and proud, his arms behind his back in a militaristic fashion. The man had warm, coppery skin and deep bluish-gray eyes that flickered with power. Thalia felt the overwhelming tingling sensation that radiated from the man indiscriminately as it affected those in the large room.

This man was undoubtedly Indra, the King of the Devas. Thalia had never really studied Hindu mythology, though she had heard a few things about Hinduism through Annabeth when she talked about the architectural marvel that was the Taj Mahal. Thalia watched as Indra walked towards where she had moved to after the announcement that the King of the Devas was coming onto Olympus.

The Olympians had asked everybody to move away from the throne room doors, just to show a bit of respect for the de facto leader of the Hindu pantheon. The daughter of Zeus had noticed that the gods were seemingly a bit nervous about the meeting after Iris had told them that Indra was quite impatient with waiting in the lobby of the Empire State Building.

She was surprised that the Hindu pantheon was even active. True, Hinduism was still worshipped heavily and was the third largest religion, but she had never heard of a whole different pantheon of gods existing. The Romans were one thing. They were understandable seeing as the Mediterranean shared many ideas, but for Hinduism to also have a contingent of powerful gods as well? Thalia was understandably shocked, especially when she realized that those gods must have been quite strong due to the worship that they still received on a regular basis.

The Greek and Roman pantheons weren't worshipped nearly as much, and therefore they sustained themselves mainly with following the Heart of the West. If they had not latched onto the Heart of the West, then the Greek pantheon surely never would have made it out to Rome, where western civilization flourished during the turn of the old millenia. With the constant hops to different countries that all bore the flame of western civilization the Greeks -and their Roman aspects- never truly needed to be worshipped all that much. As long as western civilization flourished, so did the gods. This of course caused the gods power to decrease when the Early Middle Ages rolled around, signalling the "Dark Ages" as many people deemed to term that time period.

With Rome falling to a combination of barbarian attacks and internal strife, there was no true great western power until the Frankish Empire reached its apogee. Unfortunately, even the Franks could not keep their own power for long, and their once proud nation fell because of different heirs inheriting large swaths of land. After that, the Holy Roman Empire and the Carolingian Empires both could be seen as the heart that led western civilization. Those few centuries were when the gods had been at their weakest, especially since they were being worshipped less and less as Christianity spread throughout Europe.

Thalia vaguely recalled the history lessons that her Lady Artemis as well as some of the oldest hunters had given to her some time ago. What nobody had ever mentioned though was that other gods not related to still existed in the current day and age. It was shocking enough to discover that Angra Mainyu, a Zoroastrian deity, was still alive; to now learn that the Hindu's were in power and living was especially stunning.

Now, seeing one of the most powerful gods in the Hindu pantheon strolling to the Olympian thrones, Thalia could say that she knew how worship could affect gods' power. Indra was obviously powerful, with his very aura rolling off of him in waves. The God of Thunderstorms was dressed in a navy blue blazer along with dark blue jeans and tan boat shoes. The blazer was unbuttoned, and the wore ruby earrings and a necklace with multiple sapphires adorning it. His hair was a deep dark brown that looked black in the right light which was cut short. Thalia couldn't help but think of him looking like a very attractive college student perhaps. The way he dressed was a bit preppy for her taste, but then again he could dress however he liked seeing as he was perhaps one of the most powerful beings alive. Who was she to argue with him?

Thalia stood in front of her father's throne, much to her displeasure. She had been called there so as to not give the image of the Greeks being heavily divided before the representative of an entirely different pantheon. It would not look good if the Greeks appeared to be split, and Thalia couldn't find any fault in that logic, so she played along with the gods' wishes. She was still livid at what had happened, but in times of trouble, she would still protect her family.

' _Even if I couldn't protect Percy. I'll do what he would have done.'_

Indra stopped a couple of dozen of feet away from Zeus' throne, and gave the assembled Olympians a bow. The bow was neither overly zealous nor was it mockingly small. Thalia had to admit that the god certainly knew how to put on a poker face. Indra had no outward show of emotion, his visage was locked and stoic. There was silence in the throne room as everybody waited to see what the Olympians would do now. Zeus had to look down on the fellow king, since Indra had taken a form that was only standing at about seven feet in height. It was tall for a typical mortal, though nobody was fooled. The assembly knew that Zeus was looking at an equal in terms of prestige, if not a superior in terms of power.

"Indra, it's a… pleasure… to speak to you again," Zeus said, having to mull over his word choice as he spoke. Thalia noted that her father looked pensive around the other deity, as if he was uncertain about something. Her father looked distracted, and when she looked around, Thalia noticed that some of the other Olympians also held the same look.

Indra spoke with a silky casualness that relayed no emotion. "As it is to speak with you too. I take it you are doing well for yourself these days?" The god asked. Finally Indra allowed his eyes to roam away from the fourteen thrones that sat around the hearth, and he directed his gaze to the throne room as a whole. As he admired the room, the gods were silently watching him closely. This was also the case for the demigods, who were a bit put out by the sudden appearance of Indra.

"Yes, yes… we are doing well thank you for asking. The Heart of the West still pumps strong, and the flame of Western Civilization burns nicely," Zeus said with a stern voice. The other Olympians nodded their consent at Zeus' statement, wanting to show unity.

"Ah, well it's good to hear that then…" Indra trailed off as his eye finally landed on Thalia's form. The King of the Devas narrowed his eyes imperceptibly as he almost broke out into a sneer upon seeing the lieutenant of the Hunt. Zeus immediately tensed up, his hands clenching the armrests of his marble throne. Thalia shuffled a bit closer to her father under the intense gaze of Indra's stormy blue irides. The Hindu King tore his eyes away from Thalia and looked back at Zeus, then he looked back at the raven-haired teen. His eyes flit between the two a few times, before he schooled his expression once more.

Taking several strides forward, Indra closed the distance between himself and Thalia. Zeus stiffened on his throne as the other king stood before his daughter. Indra held out his hand, and Thalia hesitated to shake it. There was a small pause, but the lieutenant of Artemis decided that to ignore the small gesture would be unwise. She doubted that Indra would take kindly to being disrespected by a demigod. Reaching tentatively outwards, Thalia grasped the offered hand with her own in a firm handshake. She did her best to not show her discomfort, trying to translate her strength of will into her handshake, but simply through the touch of Indra's skin on hers did Thalia realize that she was outclassed in every single way when compared to the god before her. She understood that crossing Indra would be the single most idiotic thing that she could ever do, perhaps even dumber than fighting against Titans and Giants.

Indra withdrew his hand first, breaking contact and thus allowing the daughter of Zeus to regain her senses. The godly pressure that had filled her mind dissipated like fog at noon. She swayed slightly on her feet and blinked rapidly to clear her vision of the haze.

It was Indra's voice that helped bring her fully back to the real world. "A child of Zeus I see. You look quite a bit like your father, what with the stunning eyes and the dark hair. Perhaps once the old world order falls you and my son can meet. I'm sure he would be pleased to make your acquaintance." The god's voice remained impassive and calm, yet Thalia could feel the rolling, exuberant power that lay hidden inside of the unassuming tone.

"Ah-uh-wha-I mean… What?" Thalia fought to control the stutter in her voice as she responded numbly to the King of the Devas. She tried to make sense of what he had said, but for whatever reason her mind was coming up blank. She felt on edge, like she could jump out of her skin at any moment. In the corner of her mind, the lieutenant of Artemis deduced that Indra's godly power must have been affecting her in some way, but the information was of no use to her at that point. She felt powerless before the God of Thunderstorms and Rain, as if her life was hanging on by a thread that he could choose to cut at any moment. It was by his whim, that she still lived.

A microscopic smile graced the Hindu god's face as he looked at Thalia. "You'll have to forgive my impudence. I do not often interact with mortals, and as such my aura can be quite aggressive in dominating the essence of human life. I was simply inviting you to Mount Meru to meet my son, perhaps you would get along, he is about your age."

Finally being able to think clearly, Thalia's mind briefly flashed the image of a pair of lively sea-green eyes causing the girl to frown. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't really know you or your son. No offense, but I feel like you're basing things off of my appearance alone, since you know nothing about my personality, and I don't really care for those kinds of assumptions," Thalia said curtly, but with trace amounts of respect to not seem extremely rude towards the Hindu god. The power that she felt still haunted her mind, and she did not want to find herself facing an irate god that held such strength.

Indra could only smile a bit wider at her assertions and shake his head. "Of course, that is very disrespectful of me. You are correct when you said I was judging you solely on your looks, and nothing else. I now can see that you also have a bit of your father's bite. My apologies then, child of Zeus, I will endeavor to not speak out of turn when it comes to you," the god stated, before turning away from her and facing Zeus.

The King of the Olympians had a look of poorly hidden pride directed at his daughter. His eyes gleamed a bit, but he was soon broken out of his personal thoughts by the voice of Indra, who was now addressing him personally.

"Well Zeus I'm sure you are questioning why I have come all the way here. I'll be the first to admit, that I didn't want to come, but many of my other fellow Devas believed that this meeting would be beneficial for both of our groups. Our pantheon has agreed to place aside our… _grievances_ … with you and yours should you choose to hear what we have to offer and say." Indra spoke with detached indifference, though he struggled in the middle of his sentence a bit. The strained speech set Thalia on edge more than she already was. It had been made clear that the Greeks and the Hindus were not on fantastic terms from the moment that Indra had arrived, but there seemed to be something deeper than what was seen on the surface.

"I see. Well if my own council finds this to be a fair deal then we shall agree to your terms," Zeus said, looking around at each of the Olympians on their respective thrones. Many nodded to him cautiously, with only a few refraining from making any sort of gesture. Athena in particular seemed to be struggling to find the right course of action given the situation. It took a full minute before Athena finally gave Zeus a very slow nod, along with Hera and Hades, who also had taken some time to think about what Indra had to say.

With the majority of Olympians voting to hear Indra out, Zeus gave his attention once more to the powerful guest in the throne room. "It seems that the council has agreed to hear what you have to say."

"Very well. Let me start by saying that there have been rumors of old powers stirring in the Land of the Old. The Shinto faction has also come out of Takama-ga-hara for brief periods of time to parlay with our messengers and those of the Egyptians as well. The Norse and ourselves have always had good relations, and as such they have seen fit to tell us that dark forces are causing internal strife within the other nine realms. They fear Ragnarok is close, and the Egyptians have lost track of Apophis. Something is happening around the world, and it doesn't just affect us on the eastern hemisphere," Indra said. The throne room was silent as the gods and demigods listened closely to what was being said. Thalia saw that many of the Olympians were rigid in their seats.

"Surely you must find it odd that two very powerful enemies made themselves known to you in such a short amount of time. The rise of both Kronos and Gaea within only a few years should have been a near improbably coincidence… but… what if it wasn't a coincidence?" Indra asked suddenly, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What if I told you that the other pantheons have also been having trouble, and that things around the world look grim. Reports say that you did well for yourselves here, and have defeated your enemies. Elsewhere, things are dire."

"And how do you know about what happened within our realm?" Hades queried, his eyebrow arched. This elicited looks of surprise and anger on many of the gods' faces. Heads turned towards the King of the Devas, who looked on with a set face.

"After what happened during your reign in the United Kingdom those on my council agreed that we should keep a close eye on you lot. You Greeks earned the ire of so many gods that there was an agreement to plant informants inside of your territory here in the United States. We learned some things about the past two wars that you won, though our informants couldn't get too close for fear of being caught. Vague ideas were given to us, nothing very detailed." Indra said dismissively and with a wave of his hand. He shrugged when he saw the glares of multiple gods on him, his lip curling into a thinly veiled smirk.

It was Athena who decided to respond to Indra's enlightening words. "There have been spies within our power base for decades now and we haven't noticed? I find that hard to believe," she stated, her eyes narrowed and focused solely on the Hindu god before her.

"You can believe what you want," Indra retorted. "You Greeks thought yourselves infallible, we simply took advantage of your arrogance and smuggled some of our own through your borders when the Heart of the West shifted from the United Kingdom to the United States. Once your oppression of our people was lifted we once again reclaimed our lands and built up our information network. You were just the first that we infiltrated, but you most certainly weren't the last."

"With this new information we should throw you out of Olympus and shut our gates forever to you and yours _Indra_ ," Poseidon hissed.

The God of Rain cocked his eyebrow and gave Poseidon an incredulous look. "You think that we would just accept what was done by your pantheon to our country? Of course we would watch you closely, just in case you decided to try your imperialistic ventures once again. You should be thanking me actually, that we have not made any move against you as it stands now. You are weakened from the wars, and if we Hindus so chose you would find yourselves hard fought should we declare a blood feud. Instead I came personally to give you information that you had no knowledge about, and to warn you that there is a larger game being played by an unknown variable. I come to propose a small summit of the world's pantheons that still exist."

As soon as he had finished speaking the council room erupted into a whirl of shouted protests and indignant rebuttals. Every god, be them major or minor had an opinion on the subject that was brought up, and most seemed completely averse to the idea. The demigods looked around in confusion as they heard their parents arguing and trying to speak over one another to voice their stance. Thalia cringed as she heard her father and Poseidon shout at Indra for even suggesting the idea. The cacophony of sounds continued for some time, with Indra simply waiting for everybody to finish speaking out against his proposal. The God of Rain stood, seemingly unperturbed by the din that was slowly starting to dwindle down.

Finally one voice boomed above the rest as the cries of protest fell to a portion of what they once were. "Your proposal is foolish! A meeting of all the gods of the world would only end in disaster. It has been proven before, and it will be proven again, that we cannot simply sit down and hold pleasant conversation with the others!" Zeus bellowed, standing from his throne and towering over the Hindu guest.

"That's where you're wrong." Indra stated firmly. "The Norse and the Hindus have good relations as it stands. This is proof that we _can_ be amiable towards other gods, but that we simply _choose_ not to be. In fact, I would go as far to say that you Greeks have the worst track record when it comes to inter-pantheon exchanges. The Egyptians and Shinto, along with the Hindus, were very displeased with your expansionist policies that were dominant in the past. The Norse however have never had grievances with you, and as such they would be fine hosts for such a summit. You have changed your ways somewhat from what they once were, that much is clear, and you have practically locked yourselves away here on the western hemisphere, cutting yourselves off from the old world. It would be in your best interest to interact more and make amends with those you wronged in the past; especially since there seems to be more trouble looming in the distance."

"Our realm has been through much already, and we've persevered through it. There is no enemy that Olympus and its allies cannot defend against. We will not be joining you for the summit you will hold, that is final," Zeus said authoritatively, his fists clenching as he watched Indra smirk.

"You would so readily deny the aid of other gods even at the cost of your own lives?" Indra asked curiously.

"There is no threat currently in our realm. We have no need to interact with the other gods." Zeus retorted smoothly.

Indra could only shake his head with clear disapproval. He massaged his eyebrows with his hand as he muttered under his breath too quietly for anybody else to hear. He lowered his head and rubbed his chin thoughtfully before snapping his fingers and nodding to himself.

"I will offer this then. Come to the summit, and we will strike an accord between the Hindus and the Greeks. I will talk to my council to see what they have to say on the matter, but you must understand, that what I offer is likely not going to go over well with my own people. I believe that this is the time to make new treaties and to forge new alliances. The old system of the world is coming down, seeing as how we are interacting right now. The old isolationist system doesn't allow for us to aid one another in times of crisis. Imagine what could have happened if we had worked together during the Titan and Giant crises that took so many lives here. I will leave you to think about my proposal, and when you have a more prepared answer you may send a message to Mount Meru." Indra finished, his hands spread out in a gesture of goodwill, before he vanished in a loud crack of thunder and spark of lightning.

The room was silent after the echo of the thunder died. The gods seemed to be lost deep in thought, and the demigods were quite confused about everything that had just occurred. Many of the campers were looking around, whispering to one another in an attempt to make sense of things. Eyes were averted from the gods and heads were ducked as the rumor mill began to turn, churning out theories and conjectures about the meeting and its implications.

A loud pounding on the marble floor brought everybody's attention to the Olympians.

"The council has much to discuss for now. This meeting is over for the most part. Go home demigods, and speak to Miss Dare to see if a quest can be issued to bring my nephew home. Campers are dismissed, however the other gods are needed for the deliberations with regards to Indra's proposal." Zeus said.

Thalia moved away from the throne of her father while the campers all filed out of the throne room. The raven-haired girl strode over to the rest of the Hunt, who were all near Artemis' throne. Giving her mistress a quick bow, Thalia questioned, "What should we do now my lady?" Her voice sounded tired and defeated, causing Artemis to give her lieutenant a forlorn look.

"I believe that you should take the Hunt to Camp Half-Blood to rest and recuperate. The shrouds for our two fallen will be burned along with the shrouds for those campers who died on the hill. You all look tired, so even if you don't like the campers very much, I would appreciate it if you remained someplace relatively safe. It would be a burden lifted off my mind," Artemis spoke softly, hoping not to upset her lieutenant too much more. The day had been trying for the girl, and Artemis didn't want to add any more stress onto her trusted friend.

Thalia's face scrunched up for a second, but she knew that what her mistress had said was fairly true. Even though the camp had been recently attacked, the odds of something else happening there were quite low, making Camp Half-Blood a safe location for the Hunt to rest, relax, and mourn for the time being.

Even if she didn't want to go, Thalia wouldn't argue the orders of her mistress. She had to put aside her own distaste for the campers in order to protect the Hunt. Though, that certainly didn't mean that she couldn't let out her frustration by beating on a few people while she was there. Even if Percy wouldn't want her to punish his one time friends, she was still livid over what they had subjected him to. She would show little mercy to those she knew were closest to her cousin.

With that final thought of vengeance, Thalia nodded her head and spoke up so that the other Hunters could hear her. "Lady Artemis would like for us to rest and recuperate at Camp Half-Blood for the time being. We will burn the shrouds of Cassandra and Lily, our fallen sisters, and take some time to mourn them. I don't want to hear complaints right now, and neither does Lady Artemis, so let's move out." With that, Thalia moved through the throne room, the Hunt in tow. With all that had happened recently, she wondered just how things would be affected in the near future. She shuddered to think about what would happen without the Hero of Olympus to help.

* * *

 _Purgatory…_

Percy walked behind the Black Knight as the duo made their way through the warmly lit hallways of Ahriman's mansion. The clanking of armor and the soft notes of a piano were the only things that could be heard. The hallway that Mordred and Percy were walking in was lined with windows on the far left hand side, all being nearly ten feet tall and five feet wide. The curtains were drawn back so that they could see outside as the trees shook violently in the midst of the raging storm. Even with the wind and the rain battering the windows, Percy couldn't hear anything that would indicate that there was a storm. If he couldn't see it with his own eyes, the teen might have never even noticed the inclement weather.

Opposite the windows on the other side of the hall were multiple pictures of green landscapes. The rolling hills and tall trees that took residence inside of the images seemed like a mocking statement to remind Percy that he was no longer in the world that contained such beauty and lushness. Instead, if he were to move his head he would see only the fierce, pounding rain and the destructive winds that all but forced him to stay indoors. The rug beneath the two warriors was plush and intricately decorated.

It had been about an hour since Percy had agreed to help Angra Mainyu deal with Spenta Mainyu, and since then the former demigod had learned quite a bit about what was in store for him. Before he could fight the antithesis to the God of Evil, Percy first had to learn how to handle the curse of power that had been given to him. Now that he was human, he no longer had the physical prowess that came with being a son of Poseidon. If he wanted to fight on par with even a lowly monster, he would need to activate the curse.

Of course, he no longer had the endurance of a demigod either, meaning that he would tire out sooner, and that his body would shut down on him too quickly. The only upside to Percy having been made a full human was that the curse would now be far more potent than it had been originally. Now with the curse active, he would be stronger than when it was activated before. Percy would be a real threat now, but he needed to learn how to manage the curse so that he wouldn't wear himself down too quickly in a fight.

That was why he was now walking with the Black Knight. Mordred was the only other person to carry the curse of power according to Ahriman, meaning that if anybody could teach Percy how to use it to its full potential, it was the Knight of Betrayal. Ahriman had told Percy that he would be trained by Mordred for most of the week, and that he could occasionally expect for a different person to take over training every once in a while to keep him on his toes.

"So, where are we going?" Percy asked, breaking the silence between himself and the dread knight. Mordred kept walking for several steps before answering.

"This knight has decided that thou should speak with the swordsmith. A warrior without a blade dost make a poor adversary. Afterward, we shall yede and begin strait training. Soothly, this knight finds excitement in training another who is of equal ilke," Mordred responded, not bothering to stop or turn to look at the son of Poseidon. Percy nodded his head even though he knew that the knight could not see him do so.

"Sounds fair… so uh… how are we gonna go about training me with the curse? I mean, it seems weird to think that I can just work it out like a muscle or something," the teen said, scratching his nose. When Angra Mainyu had told him that he would be training on controlling the curse, Percy hadn't really bothered to ask how it would be done. Now though, as he and Mordred walked through the halls leading towards the Japanese swordsmith, Percy couldn't help but wonder what his training entailed.

"Thou art correct in the assumption. Heretofore, this knight has never met another individual who bears the burden that we share. Admittedly, the training requires strength of will, and not physical attributes in order to control the curse. Erelong, thou will be learned of mental control." Mordred affirmed, before stopping once the duo reached the end of the hallway.

Percy stared at the large double doors that stood before him. They were metallic in nature, and looked to be nearly fifteen feet tall. The doors were a plain silver color, with the handles being rectangular and blocky. There was no design or anything to signify artistic merit to the doors, which Percy found out of place in such an exquisite mansion. Everywhere else he had been was poshly decorated with expensive furniture and opulent ornaments.

Mordred placed his hands on the door and pushed them open with one massive heave, letting the giant slab of metal slid inwards. Behind the doors was a set of stairs that led down into the bowels of the house. Percy noted that the stairs were extremely long and fairly wide, allowing for plenty of room to walk. The area was well lit with bright fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling and on the stone walls. Mordred began to descend down the stairs, and Percy quickened his pace to keep up with the knight.

"Muramasa lives down here?" Percy questioned his companion as they continued their way down. The lights never gave up further down the steps, through they changed from bright white to dim and mellow orange. Percy was glad for the change, seeing as the harsh glare had nearly blinded him as soon as they had opened the doors at the top of the stairs.

"Nay. The swordsmith has his living quarters above ground near the grand hall. These are his working quarters however, his forge. Nary a day goes past that he does not come down to work on a project however," Mordred said with a shake of his head.

"Ah, good to know I guess…"

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Percy saw that the long tunnel that they had been in turned into a fairly large cavernous structure. The duo stepped off the final step and Percy took the time to look around the room he was in.

The top of the room was curved like a dome, and it was made out of stone. At the very top of the dome Percy could see multiple vents placed, undoubtedly so that the noxious fumes wouldn't be trapped inside the large room and suffocate whoever was working inside. The walls were also made out of stone, and there were also vents placed along that area as well. There were some suits of armor from all around the world placed against the walls, and weapon racks lined the space between each set of armor. Percy saw swords ranging from scimitars, to katana, to flamberges, and khopesh all being displayed proudly. Some swords had odd coloring to them, with some being a coppery-bronze color, others being a typical silver-gray, and others being outlandish hues such as red, blue, even some yellow and green.

Further inside the room was a large smelting dome that sat right next to a stone hearth and multiple large anvils. The area around the set up was dirty with soot and grime plastering the floors and some of the equipment. There were hammers and tongs scattered around some wooden tables that were placed near the forge, while a large pair of bellows sat next to the hearth construct, being pointed directly at the tuyere to allow for air to be introduced to fan the flames. A large quantity of coal sat inside of the hearth off to the sides, ready to be introduced into the main pit where the fire would be located.

Further behind the large forge was a long wooden table where a man sat in a large leather chair. He was bent over the table with his face practically touching the polished wooden surface. Percy inferred that the man was more than likely Muramasa, considering that Mordred had already said that they were in Muramasa's forge.

Both Percy and Mordred made their way through the maze of tables and anvils to get to where the Japanese swordsmith sat. As they approached, Muramasa tensed up and swiveled around in his chair rapidly, turning to face the duo. The tension left his body when he saw who it was, and he grinned at Mordred and Percy, gesturing for them to join him at the table. He pointed to the seats on either side of him which looked exactly like his own. The black leather seemed out of place in the harsh environment of a forge, but Percy had already accepted that Muramasa was a bit eccentric.

Percy took the seat at Muramasa's left, and Mordred took the righthand seat. Upon settling down, Percy saw what Muramasa had been so keenly observing prior to their arrival. On the table was the bladesmith's phone, which was playing a video of a dog shaking it's butt to the song Bubble Butt by Major Lazer. Percy stared at phone as Muramasa snickered at the video. Mordred shook his head and leaned forward to enjoy the video.

Some time later, after Muramasa had calmed himself of his case of sudden onset giggles, he cracked his neck and pocketed his phone. Leaning back, the man stretched out and turned to Percy, who was trying to understand what had just happened.

"So you've come for a new sword then eh? Well I can't say I wasn't expecting that you would come down here. Sorry about your old sword, Ahriman told me that you've had it for quite some time. A man bonds with his blade, especially a blade that's saved his life more than once. Don't even get me started on a man's first blade…" Muramasa said, a small glint in his eye as he spoke.

"Yeah… Anaklusmos was a pretty special sword. I had it with me since I was twelve. It was the first sword I ever held, and it was perfectly balanced for me. I killed my first monster with it you know?" Percy responded, looking around the forge. "It helped me through a lot of life and death situations… it's… well… it's original owner gave it to me with her blessing."

Muramasa nodded with understanding, as did Mordred. It seemed that they could relate to what Percy was saying, something that lifted the son of Poseidon's spirits a bit. It was nice to know that they could empathize with him, seeing as how much of his world had been taken from him in one fell swoop. Percy scratched his neck uncomfortably.

"I don't have the pieces, so you can't just recast the sword. Besides, I think that it's lived a good life. A sword deserves to go out with a bang instead of rust into oblivion right?" The former demigod asked, his eyes locking onto the table as he fiddled with his hands. He shifted in his seat as a soft silence descended upon the trio of warriors as they pondered his words.

"A fine way to look at it," Muramasa finally said as he stood up and placed a strong hand on Percy's shoulder. He moved away and motioned for Percy and Mordred to follow him. The two stood and moved behind Muramasa as he walked to a door on the far back wall of the room. The smith opened the door revealing a room fully stocked with rocks. Percy furrowed his brow as he looked around the four corners of the filled room, and saw that there were stacks of crates that were full of different shaped rocks.

"This here," the swordsmith motioned to the room proudly. "It's my personal stash of ores. We have everything from the mundane, such as hematite, to the fantastical such as orichalcum."

"R-right…"

Upon seeing the confused expression on Percy's face, Muramasa chuckled and pointed at two separate crates that were labelled differently. "The first one there is hematite, which is where you can get iron from. Quite common throughout the mortal world, it's much harder to find here in Purgatory. The other is orichalcum, an Atlantean ore that can be used in creating a variety of alloys. Trust me when I say this stuff can be pretty great. This can only be found on the outskirts of Atlantis, were the mermen mine this stuff and use it for their armor and weapons. Rarely do they sell this ore to the outside world. The tariffs on exporting Orichalcum are astronomical, so few people even try and get the stuff out of the country. Those that do get it out of the sea charge high prices for both it's rarity and the cost of exportation, meaning that Orichalcum is too expensive for most supernatural blacksmiths. Of course I have a few more… eh… rare ores and metals in this room, ones that could make some really beautiful weapons. Just thinking about it makes me smile."

Percy didn't say anything more, mostly in fear of Muramasa continuing his explanations or going into advanced detail about the chemical composition of each ore and how it would affect the metallurgic process when forging and casting swords. He knew well by now to tread carefully around those who have a fiery passion for anything he wasn't familiar with. If he so much as asked a question, he could potentially be given a five hour long lecture about the dynamics between metals and alloys and the history of metalworking from the Bronze Age all the way until the Information Age.

Shuddering at the thought of sitting through something of that nature, Percy simply nodded his head. He hoped that small bit of acceptance would lead Muramasa to believe that he understood and that there was no necessity for further elucidation. Much to Percy's pleasure, the swordsmith did as he had hoped and dropped the subject in favor of a new one.

"Okay! With that bit of explanation done let's talk about your new sword. What kind of ore do you want to use for it? We can go ahead and also look at different kinds of alloys and whatnot to make it extra durable. There are a few combinations I would like to try, and with you here that gives me the perfect excuse to bust out some of my good stash. I've been itching to use some of my better resources, but I'm not a huge fan of wasting expensive materials you know? I like to at least have a decent reason to experiment with the good stuff, so I don't feel to bad if it turns out too brittle or too bendable. We can always try-"

"-Mayhaps thou should allow the charge to speak swordsmith?" Mordred interrupted, stopping Muramasa from going into a small diatribe. The Japanese legend coughed into his fist and nodded his head once.

"Yes, I suppose that's a good idea. Well, there's no way in hell I'm just gonna give him a regular run-of-the-mill sword. We're gonna craft you a whole new symbol, one worthy of your legendary status! Maybe, just maybe… well, either way, I hope this will turn out well. Let's start with the basics, what kind of sword would you like?" Muramasa asked, tilting his head and pocketing his hands.

"Erm, I'm not sure what you mean by that…" Percy said, shuffling his feet a bit.

Muramasa chuckled and explained, "I mean of what style. Shortsword, longsword, hand and a half, katana, khopesh, bastard… you know, that kind of stuff."

"Ah, uh, well Anaklusmos was a Greek sword, kind of leaf shaped…" Percy replied tentatively.

"You want something similar to your old blade?" The swordsmith asked with a raised eyebrow. "Are you sure about that? Trust me when i say, it will feel odd if you use a sword that is similar to your most trusted blade, especially if it isn't that same exact one. It would be more fitting if you were to use a different sword altogether, one that doesn't bear a large similarity. This goes double for the kind of sword I'm planning on making you."

"Well that doesn't sound ominous at all…" Percy muttered as he apprehensively watched the glint of manic glee in Muramasa's eye.

Mordred leaned over and whispered in Percy's ear, "Thou will be learned on the swordsmith's eccentric disposition in time."

Percy nodded his head softly. "Yeah I think I'm already kind of getting a mad scientist vibe from this guy." Straightening up Percy shrugged his shoulders and looked at Muramasa oddly. "Well, if that's what you recommend I guess going with that would be in my best interest… you are the expert here right?"

Muramasa nodded sagely as he held his chin. "Yes, this is very true. I have been crafting swords of the highest quality for a long time. Several hundred years ago my swords were known all across my homeland of Japan. They were regarded with great care and suspicion though, since they all thirsted for blood. All of my blades were cursed by Angra Mainyu, although technically it was my own fault for accepting his proposal. He's the one who helped me create the sword for Kagutsuchi."

Percy's eyes widened a bit as he heard that piece of information. It made sense of course, for Angra Mainyu to help Muramasa but put a price on that assistance. He had already said he had given Mordred the power to defeat King Arthur before, and now he had provided help for Muramasa to overcome the task set by the God of Fire Kagutsuchi. Percy himself had been given aid by the God of Evil in the Pit, and that too had come with a price.

"Well with that said, let's just have you get a feel for the different types of swords," Muramasa said as he led Mordred and Percy to the racks of weapons on the far wall. The Japanese swordsmith took one off the rack and tossed it to Percy who panicked as he saw the blade coming straight for him. He yelped in surprise and snaked his arm around the blade, catching it by the handle and twisting his torso out of the way to avoid being skewered.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?" Percy shouted as he advanced menacingly on the sheepish bladesmith who was holding his hands up in surrender.

"W-Wait! Th-That was just a test to uh-to-w-well I just wanted to see your reaction time! Yeah let's go with that," Muramasa stammered, backing away from the glowering son of Poseidon.

Percy swung the sword at Muramasa's head while shouting, "YOU DON'T SAY 'YEAH LET'S GO WITH THAT' WHEN YOU'RE TRYING TO LIE TO SOMEONE YOU MORON!" He swung once again and missed when the focus of his ire rolled off to the side, toppling over a table as he scrambled to get away.

"I'm sorry!" The swordsmith yelled as he sprinted around the forge, weaving through the variety of anvils and tables that were scattered around. Percy gave chase, occasionally trying to inflict some form of punishment on the bladesmith for his poor sense of judgement. Mordred watched them run around for a few minutes, chuckling so softly that nobody could hear.

Eventually Percy managed to nick Muramasa's shoulder, and he calmed down after getting a small dose of vengeance. Muramasa was grateful that nothing else happened, and anxiously made his way back to the weapon rack, giving Percy a wide berth so as not to agitate him any more. Once he was standing next to the stack of swords, he turned to Percy and motioned at the sword that the former demigod still held in one hand.

"How does that feel? It's 28 inches of titanium-tungsten alloy. Light, easy to swing, though it must be difficult to handle right now for you since you aren't used to Eastern swords," the bladesmith said as Percy examined the sword.

True enough, Percy felt something off as he held the katana in his hands. It was a beautifully curved blade with a wavy pattern that ran the length of the sword on the flat of the blade. The sword was two tones, being silver-gray near the bladed edge and a darker shade of gray near the back of the sword.

"The hamon is that wavy visual effect on the side of the blade, made because I used differential hardening. The sword itself was forged using the method of my predecessor, Masamune. It's seven layers of different cross sections that are each a different strength of the alloy that I used. The hardest alloy is on the outside of the blade, with a soft alloy cushioning the left and right sides, all enclosing a medium strength block at the center of the sword." Muramasa explained as he took the sword from Percy's hands. He held it reverently to the light as he examined it a bit, before placing it back on the weapon rack.

"I did notice that the sword just didn't really call to me for some reason. The weight felt off, so did the length. I dunno what else to say I guess," Percy stated, shrugging his shoulders.

Muramasa nodded thoughtfully and perused the rack for another weapon. He pulled out a longer sword that was definitely european in design. He carefully handed the sword over to the son of Poseidon and let the young man take it from his grasp. Percy measured the weapon carefully, balancing it in his palm and occasionally swinging it around. He frowned and shook his head, handing it back to Muramasa.

"Still too light for me. Though the length is a bit better, and I do like the shape much better." Percy said.

"Hmm, okay okay, let's try…"

Mordred, Percy, and Muramasa spent the next thirty minutes walking from weapon rack to weapon rack as they tried to locate a sword that could be used as a blueprint for Percy's custom made one. Muramasa had gone through at least forty to fifty swords of different cultures and varieties. He had learned that Percy would most certainly prefer a european sword to those of other origins. Of course this was perfectly understandable, but Muramasa couldn't help feel a bit disappointed that Percy hadn't wanted a katana or an odachi as it were.

Finally though, after half an hour spent looking, the specifications had been determined for Percy's new sword.

"Okay then, we'll be doing something akin to an Oakeshott Type Nineteen sword, around thirty-six inches or so, and around five pounds. You are a strong one aren't you? To be swinging a single-handed sword weighing five pounds around like it was nothing. Now we just need to figure out the metal and we can go ahead and start working on it. Actually, as I think about it, I already have the perfect materials in mind." He gestured for Percy and Mordred to follow him. He led them to another door on the back wall, though this one was made of dark metal.

Percy gazed at the metal with apprehension, feeling uneasy as Muramasa walked closer to the door. A shiver ran down Percy's body as he felt a whisper in his ear the closer he moved. It felt warm, and yet so very cold, both in conjunction with one another. His mind withered as the whispering seemed to get louder and more ferocious the more he tried to block it out. Percy cringed as the whispers grew into a cascade of chorusing voices that deafened him. He couldn't make out what was being said, but he felt a tight pull in the center of his chest, practically forcing him to march his way to the dark door. He wanted to resist, but at the same time he wanted to walk through into the room and embrace whatever was now encroaching upon his very sanity. The very thought of _touching_ the presence was enough to cause Percy to tremble with excitement and dread.

Muramasa came to a full stop right next to the door, and placed one hand on the knob. He looked back, only to find Percy with sweat dripping down his chin. The rapid rise and fall on the former demigod's chest and the nervous twitch that had started with his right eye was a clear sign to the aged swordsmith that his choice of material was correct. Percy took a few final steps towards the door before he realized that Mordred was no longer beside him. Looking around, Percy saw the knight standing off several feet to the side, staying far away from the direction of the whispers and malice.

"What's behind the door?" Percy asked softly, his eyes glazing over as he listened closely, trying to ascertain what the whispers were about. Even though the whispers dominated his mind, they were still simply echoes and hisses in his brain. There were many that now floated through his thought process, shutting down almost everything but his thirst for knowledge on what lie beyond the door.

His response was Muramasa turning the door handle slowly, and swinging the door wide open. The whispers stopped almost immediately, causing Percy to falter as he tried to take a step forward. Stumbling as the veil that was once covering his mind lifted, Percy blinked rapidly as his senses returned to him full force. The son of Poseidon gave Muramasa a frown, but he still got no response. Instead, the bladesmith motioned for him to go inside.

Taking quick steps, Percy walked face first into the darkened room.

Looking around, he noticed that there was a large single slab of rectangular rock sitting in the dead center of the chamber. He couldn't make out the stone perfectly, and just as he turned around to ask what was happening the door closed with a resounding clang that echoed throughout the dark room. In a panic, Percy ran to where the door was and pressed against it, feeling around for someway to get out. He cursed when he didn't feel any sort of knob or handle that would allow him to move the door.

Suddenly, from behind him, a red glow filled the room. Percy froze as the dim red light illuminated some of the area. He scanned the chamber, and found that the walls were made of metal, pure and slick, with no blemishes whatsoever. There was nothing else in the room except for the hunk of stone. Percy noticed that there were blood-red veins running along the entirety of the rock. They pulsed and emitted an eerie light, which was what brightened the room just enough so that Percy could see. The way that the color undulated along the veins, as if something flowed through them made the son of Poseidon shiver, but take a step forward nonetheless. Something drew him to the stone, to the unnatural power that still called to him even though the voices had disappeared.

Licking his oddly dry lips and swallowing a thick blob of saliva, Percy reached out with his right hand, slowly placing it on the stone. Something felt off when his hand started to tingle, like thousands of pins and needles had stuck to it. It wasn't painful, simply uncomfortable. He frowned and pulled away, wondering what exactly was happening. Something told him that he needed to do something else in order to get a reaction. Why he was hoping for a reaction was beyond him at the moment, but that was all he could think about. He needed to do _something_. He _knew_ that there was still an option available, but for the life of him he couldn't seem to find the proper answer to his raging question.

Suddenly an idea stuck him like lightning, making Percy sway on his feet as his mind was assailed with realization. Shaking his head and garnering his balance, the son of Poseidon reached to on corner of the thick stone, where it was extremely sharp and angular. He pressed his palm down harshly on the corner, and barely registered the pain as the stone cut into him, drawing blood. He ran his hand across the sharp edge and drew a line starting from the center of his palm to the pinky end of his hand. Blood dripped down freely and ran down his abused appendage as Percy moved away from the stone. With a final bout of understanding he smeared the blood that had accumulated on his hand across the top of the stone, covering many of the veins that started to grow and pulsate wildly. His blood disappeared into the stone, as if it had absorbed it, and the veins thickened and glowed fiercely.

Behind him, Percy was dimly aware of the sound of a door creaking open and a light spilling in from outside. He watched as the stone almost seemed to vibrate with excitement before he was jarringly pulled back out of the room by his arm. The teen stumbled over his own feet as he saw the door slam shut, blocking his vision of the stone that was now slowly calming down. He felt something connect with the side of his jaw, and was sent sprawling down to the ground.

Pain flared up in his hand and face, leaving Percy to blink away dots that danced through his vision. He pushed himself off the ground groggily and stared at the grinning face of Muramasa.

"What… what… what the hell just happened?" Percy asked, holding his head with his undamaged hand. He rubbed his jaw a little then cradled his bleeding hand close to his chest.

"That, my fine, former demigod friend, was the main ore in the alloy that will become your new sword! Oh and I punched you to wake you up from your trance," Muramasa said jovially as he clapped his hands together.

Percy shook his head and gave the bladesmith an odd look. "I'm not sure I follow. What was that stuff anyways?" Percy queried, recalling the whispers and the allure with a shudder.

"Well the mortals call it Heliotrope, also know as Bloodstone. It has many magical properties to it, many of which can never really be used by you, but what really takes the cake is how it takes pain, and uses that to fuel its own mystic power. Some believe that the more pain you are in when around Bloodstone, the more powerful it becomes. It can be used to create thunderstorms, solar eclipses, mildly predict the future, and even keep people young and ageless. Bloodstone was used to create a portion of King Arthur's sword Excalibur." Muramasa replied excitedly, practically bouncing on his feet in glee.

"Is that why Mordred didn't come close to the door?" Percy asked, eyeing the Knight of Betrayal who was walking around the workshop, looking at random sets of schematics that were strewn about.

Muramasa glanced at the Black Knight and nodded his head. "Yes, Mordred doesn't like things associated with King Arthur. The knight especially hated Excalibur, for allowing Arthur to survive for over thirty years as a young man."

Percy raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but Muramasa just shook his head.

"You'll have to ask Mordred the real version of what happened all those centuries ago. Many things have been lost to the passage of time, and Mordred is really the only person who knows what really happened."

Nodding, Percy decided to break the awkward silence that had descended on them. "So, what now?"

Muramasa grinned at the teen. "Now? Well now I start crafting. You'll have your sword eventually, trust me on that. You on the other hand, have to go train for the foreseeable future. Mordred and Scáthach have both taken an interest in you, as has Ahriman, meaning you'll be in for a world of hurt."

Percy groaned as he thought of the pain to come. Not for the first time, he found himself wishing that he could have just flown under the radar for once in his life.


	6. Shed Tears, Ye Who Seek the Power of God

**A/N: Chapter 6 is up! Once more a thanks to all of those who Follow/Favorite/Review. It's always nice to get support through those means. Pretty crazy how just one month ago I posted this story on a whim, and now we stand here at over sixty thousand words.**

 **So! This might come as a disappointment, but my spring semester starts this coming week, meaning that updates might come slower than before. So far I've been able to write about ten thousand words every week or so, give or take a couple of days. That might not be possible anymore with eighteen credit hours and my job on top of that. Hopefully, I'll be able to write a chapter every two weeks, and if I can do it more often then that's great for everybody right?**

 **Big thanks to BathoryMotives for helping me correct some things last chapter. Nothing major was changed, just cleaned up some repetitive diction, so you don't have to go and re-read chapter 5.**

 **This chapter may contain content near the end that some might find disturbing. It's not the most gruesome thing I've seen on this site, but there might be some people who can't stand torture. Yes, there will be a torture scene near the end. I trust that you all will see it coming easily enough without getting too far into the full scene, so if you want to skip it just go to the next line break. This is rated M for multiple reasons, and one of them was certainly so that I could have a bit more leeway when writing graphic scenes. The scene isn't particularly ground-breaking, but I put it in for a reason other than shock value. It shows Percy's nature, after everything he's been through.**

 **Reviews:**

 **Averyk- No I agree with you there. Just because they have the best of intentions in their eyes, doesn't mean that you can't disagree. I agree, if I were in Percy's place I would probably want to get even with them, but I think Percy is interesting because of his Fatal Flaw. I wanted to take that and just run with it, making a story that contains betrayal that has his Fatal Flaw constrain Percy in some way. Regarding the sword, I decided to change only the shape and length a bit. I agree that Percy is going to have to relearn how to properly fight, but that's the life of a demigod. The weight is the same, around five pounds, and the length of the blade will be about six inches longer. It's nothing fancy or anything, with jewels encrusted into it or anything, just a good hand-and-a-half sword. Thanks for the review by the way! I'll be sure to count your vote for Rachel in the final tally.**

 **BathoryMotives- Thanks for the review! I tried to write Muramasa to be that annoying kid who goes on and on about one thing or another that they really understand. I feel like that would have been how the real Muramasa would have been, since he seemed to pride his swords so much.**

 **spnaph- Thank you my friend! I wanted to make elaborate on some of the history of the gods so that the reader could hopefully get an understanding of what exactly is going on. As for Percy losing his cool. I mean, he was impaled, scarred, kidnapped, and then told that the only way to help the world was to fight against All the World's Good. This was all within a single day. Not to mention the abandonment and neglect that he suffered for the year following the two wars. I would say he needed to vent somehow. I don't think this'll be common, but he will more than likely blow up again some other time. Thanks for your review!**

 **A Anonymous Guy- Thank you for your kind words!**

 **TheMasterTrident13- Thank you for the review. Yes, mythology can really be tweaked in a bunch of different ways, which I will be doing here. There are just so many ways to interpret things, and it's always difficult to find the truth, if there is any. Yeah, I didn't think that giving Percy a katana would work well. I think he would do better with a European sword anyway, so that's what I went with. You are correct that Japanese warfare focused heavily on the Yari (spear), but then again most people used the spear to great effect. It was just too practical, and if an army had no spears they were easy pickings for cavalry. A good spear wall could effectively stop a mass charge by both foot soldiers and mounted soldiers. This went for all nations of course. Well, unless you were the Mongols. In which case you could just run in circles on your horse and fire arrows at the lightly armored spearmen before hitting the heavier soldiers. Either way, thank you for your input!**

 **The One Before All Others- Thanks for your review! I would like to get a chapter out every two weeks, but I can't really promise anything. When I sit down to write more often that not I'll write an average of about 1,200~1,700 words. Of course, some days I go crazy and hit three thousand, while others I may only get 150 or something measly like that. I'm sorry for the vague answer, but with university and work I definitely won't have as much time to sit down to write for fun.**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own or make any money off of this work of fanfiction. All rights for the characters in Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus go to Rick Riordan and all who were involved in the creation of the novels.**

* * *

6\. Shed Tears, Ye Who Seek the Power of God

* * *

Thalia let out a long sigh as she reclined against the trunk of the tree she was resting on. She adjusted herself so that nothing was poking her, letting her electric-blue eyes run over the encampment of the Hunt. There were several hunters busying themselves with a multitude of chores and activities. Some were cleaning the pots and pans from breakfast, while others were exercising or stretching, getting themselves ready to hunt for their lunch and dinner. Many girls were stringing their bows, then altering some small aspect of their weapon with expert precision. The sun was nearing the middle of the sky already, Apollo's chariot, which was undoubtedly on auto-pilot, moved closer to its zenith. The sky was clear, which Thalia appreciated since it meant the Hunt would stay dry for a while longer.

It had been an arduous four weeks since the end of the meeting on Olympus, and ergo the successful defense of Camp Half-Blood. Tumultuous waves had crashed through the Greco-Roman camps after the meeting, and the subsequent discoveries of what the gods had done to Percy along with the reveal of multiple pantheons still active around the world had set the demigods on an uncertain path. There was little that the gods could do seeing as how Percy was a major influential figure to all half-bloods, having been a great leader of Camp Half-Blood along with a Praetor of Camp Jupiter. The amount of respect and admiration that he garnered over time was incredible, and now that things were in an upheaval once more, people were desperate to find somebody to take the leadership position like Percy could.

' _Fucking hypocrites! All of them!'_ Thalia shouted in her mind as she bitterly recalled the uproar in Camp Half-Blood. After she had taken the hunt back to camp under her mistress' orders, the daughter of Zeus had gone ahead and confronted most of the older cabin counselors over their treatment of the Hero of Olympus. All they had done was stare at the ground and mutter out apologies, some even had tears in their eyes as they tried to make excuses. That very day it had taken most of the Hunt working in tandem to stop Thalia from wreaking havoc on the entirety of the camp.

Then there had been the confrontation with her other cousin, one who she had thought could never abandon Percy. Nico had been stabbing at the sand on the beach that Percy frequented when Thalia had found him. There had been shouting, tears, angry words, and in the end one massive lightning bolt had nearly lobotomized Nico. Thalia had needed to use all of her self-restraint, but it had been worth it when she hadn't accidentally turned Nico into a vegetable. She was sure that when Percy came back he wouldn't have been pleased in seeing the son of Hades eating through a tube.

' _But when will he come back?'_ Thalia asked herself, a forlorn look about her as she gazed at the ground. She ran her hand through the grass, feeling the blades pass through her hand and tickling her palm. She picked at the greenery, her mind wandering to her brother's reaction to learning about the battle on the hill, as well as what came after.

Jason had been absolutely enraged upon learning the details. He and Piper had both looked positively murderous when Thalia relayed the story to them, and she had given both hours to calm themselves down, hoping that she hadn't just instigated a violent showdown between Jason and the Olympians. Even though she practically felt the same, she knew that he was also blaming himself for slowly pushing Percy away. Of course, he was correct in doing so, but Thalia understood that he was feeling a combination of emotions that could lead to an unstable mental state. He wouldn't be thinking properly, and so Thalia had to ensure that her brother wouldn't start something that he would normally regret.

She hadn't been there for when the other of the Seven had been told, but from what she understood, everybody had been shaken by the events. Thalia was unable to hold the Romans responsible since Percy didn't really interact very much with Camp Jupiter, but Frank had admitted to Jason that when Percy did call there was little time to talk.

Thalia now felt completely lost, like a ship at sea without a lighthouse to illuminate the way. She clenched her fists as she recalled how Rachel had been unable to give a quest. When she had been told the situation in full by the daughter of Zeus, Rachel had spent about an hour alternating between grief and righteous anger. While it was funny to see the normally composed Oracle rant about how unfair the world was, Thalia couldn't find it in herself to do anything but offer quiet support for the impassioned girl. After she had calmed, Rachel had delivered the news to the gathered demigods that the Fates more than likely wouldn't be speaking through her anytime soon. Apparently, she had gotten used to the impending feeling of a prophecy being delivered, and at that time she hadn't even felt a tingle.

Everybody had left her place of residence disappointed that they now had no leads on how to help Percy. There had been grumbling, sorrowful looks, and even more tears when Rachel had told them that she couldn't help. Thalia too had needed to push down the surge of overwhelming sorrow that had welled up within her.

"Thalia, I've been looking for you," A voice called out, breaking Thalia from her reverie. The girl turned her head and saw that her mistress was approaching the tree which she currently rested under.

"My lady, how can I help?" Thalia asked, acknowledging Artemis as the goddess advanced.

"I came to inform you that Zeus has decided that one child from each Olympian will be present during the Five Culture Summit in Uppsala, Sweden. He wants you to join him as his chosen child," Artemis said as she stopped by the tree, looking down at her lieutenant. "There are only going to be six Olympians attending the meeting. Zeus, Hades, Ares, Hestia, Athena, and myself."

Thalia stood up with a frown, brushing off the dirt that stuck to her pants. "Why me? Wouldn't he be more proud of Jason? And who will go with Lady Hestia?"

Artemis shook her head and turned to look at her hunters going about their business. "Father doesn't believe that it would be appropriate to bring your brother along since he became a minor god. Zeus is proud of both of you Thalia, and just because Jason got a wish granted this past war doesn't mean that father thinks any less of you. I couldn't tell you who is going with my Aunt Hestia, if anybody at all."

Taking her eyes off of the auburn-haired goddess, the daughter of Zeus looked to the sky, squinting as the sun's rays washed over her vision. She put her hands in her pockets and let out a deep breath, closing her eyes and basking in the warmth that the sun provided.

"Alright then. When did the gods decide to join the Summit? If I remember right you guys looked about ready to have an aneurysm when Indra mentioned it." Thalia asked with a small smirk tugging at her lips, even though she made no move to look at her mistress.

Artemis cleared her throat. "Yes, well, after some more… intense… discussion, we began to see that perhaps the idea wasn't as foolish as we had originally thought it to be. When we thought more about Lord Indra's words we realized that if we had been aided in the previous two wars many demigods from our side would not have died."

"But… wouldn't they have had to send us some of their own demigods to help fight the Titans and Giants? They would willingly sacrifice their children just to help lessen our casualties?" Thalia pressed, her eyes opening and gazing intently at Artemis.

"Perhaps…" Artemis responded tentatively. "That is how alliances typically work. Even in mortal war, does the government not send its own people out to fight and die when an ally is attacked?"

"There's a difference between sending out somebody else's kid and sending your own. But I can see where you're going with this." Thalia said with a hint of steel in her voice, her face taking on a scowl, and she shook her head as if she were disappointed with herself in some way.

Artemis nodded, a slightly relieved expression crossing her face at hearing her lieutenant's words. She was glad that her friend would not be unagreeable in the situation that they found themselves in. Artemis knew that the raven-haired girl had very little goodwill towards the Olympians, herself included. The goddess was under no delusion that Thalia would have already forgiven her for voting to shackle Percy Jackson on Olympus.

"Yes, while I cannot speak for myself, I'm sure that sending a child to war is never easy. Although I can say that I do experience a bit of that same feeling whenever I ask you girls to fight on my behalf. I love each and every one of my hunters as if they were a sister, some of them like they were my own daughters." Artemis responded softly.

Thalia's visage was alleviated of some of its prior bitterness, and the girl's lip curled into a very small smile. "Yeah, we all know that. You've always done right by us, and so we always try to do right by you, my lady. Who will be representing you if I may ask?"

Artemis seemed surprised by the question, and just as she was about to answer she started to chuckle. "Ah, I almost forgot that you were going to be with father. Well with my lieutenant unavailable to me I suppose the next most senior hunter will join me in Uppsala."

"If I may ask my lady, why are the Greeks and Romans disliked so much? I mean, Indra _looked_ relatively calm, but some of his words were pretty… well that's to say… he seemed to hold you guys in low regard. He also mentioned that the Egyptians and Shinto had problems with us as well." Thalia queried, rubbing her hands together.

The Goddess of the Moon looked weary when Thalia had finished speaking, and she scratched the back of her neck. Her silvery eyes darted around the encampment, and a silence passed between the lieutenant and her commander. Thalia cocked an eyebrow at the odd reaction that she had garnered from her mistress, knowing that it wasn't like Artemis to become abashed over something. Very rarely did Artemis show that she was uncomfortable, but now it was like the goddess was a whole different person.

Her demigod nature beginning to act up, Thalia shifted around as she waited for her mistress to answer the question that was put forth. Tapping her foot rather impatiently, the daughter of Zeus resisted the urge to just give Artemis a small shock to jump-start the explanation. Of course, she wasn't stupid enough to actually do something so brazen. Even if they were good friends, Thalia knew that an Olympian never took well to disrespect, especially not to physical displays of belligerence.

"I suppose…" Artemis began, "That it would be wise to tell you not to antagonize any of the other gods from different pantheons. Well, also try to avoid confrontation between any demigods that are brought with the other gods. You see, since we Greeks move with the flame of Western Civilization, we have made many enemies because of past conquests. We were always on bad terms with the Egyptians because of the shared area of the Mediterranean. Then we helped Spain colonize the Americas in the late 15 century, which lasted for quite some time. We then moved to Great Britain, and helped them build their United Kingdom, which earned the ire of the Hindus and the Shinto. Of course, they are completely justified in their anger… we subjugated the people in India, and brought massive change into Japan."

Thalia ran a hand over her face, and covered her mouth, her mind racing. Of course she had known that the Greek pantheon had traveled wherever the Heart of the West went, but she had never thought _too_ deeply into what that would entail for the rest of the world. The Western Powers such as Spain, Great Britain, France, Germany, and now the United States all had a history of subjugating peoples of different parts of the world. Wars had broken out, humans had been slain, the world changed constantly. Power shifted throughout the ages, and the Greeks would more often than not be the ones that pushed their power onto other cultures.

"In hindsight, ignorance really is bliss," Thalia muttered as she recalled some details of history that painted Spain and Britain in poor light due to their imperialistic ventures. She now understood what Indra had meant when he had said _expansionist policies_ during the meeting on Olympus.

"Well that explains why Indra seemed to hold a small grudge against us," Thalia said out loud, staring at Artemis.

Artemis sighed and wrung her hands nervously, "Yes, our past actions and our support for imperialism created a rift between the Greeks and the rest of the world. Many nations still view the United States with distrust as well. You see, the stronger the nation that carries the Heart of the West, the more powerful that we gods become. This is why in the past we have wanted to expand so fervently, to gain more power."

"So… why hasn't the United States tried to expand as much as the other nations you just listed. I mean, don't get me wrong, I know that our hands aren't the cleanest, but the U.S. certainly hasn't tried something as big as the Spanish Empire, or the United Kingdom." Thalia replied curiously.

Artemis raised an eyebrow at her lieutenant. "You say that as if the United States doesn't already have a large sphere of influence. Over three-hundred million people live in the United States today, and while population size doesn't determine the Heart of the West, it certainly does help that so many people reside where the Heart currently is."

"Ah, that does make sense." Thalia nodded, gripping her chin. "So when is the Five Culture Summit taking place?"

"Two weeks from tomorrow. From the missive we received it would appear that every other active pantheon has decided to join. This will be one of the greatest moments of supernatural history. Five of the most powerful pantheons gathering to meet in a peaceful setting to discuss a larger threat," Artemis explained, shaking her head. "Truly a momentous occasion. I'm quite interested to be present at such a meeting, seeing as how I've never met the Norse deities before."

"Wow, I could only imagine how it would feel to be in the presence of so many other gods…" Thalia muttered, her body letting out an involuntary shudder as she recalled how Indra's aura alone had affected her. She truly hoped that the deities in the room would rein themselves in for the sake of the demigods.

Artemis understood what Thalia meant and decided to placate her friend a bit, "I'm sure that the gods will restrict much of their power around the mortals. We are meeting in a hotel event room in Uppsala, not in a supernatural place of power. As such, we will, of course, be limiting ourselves so as to not destroy the location." The goddess finished her thought with a small smirk on her face, which she directed at her gaping lieutenant.

"Oh, gods please don't even make a joke about that!" Thalia groaned as visions of a hotel exploding flashed through her mind.

Artemis just poked her friend in the ribs, getting an indignant squawk from Thalia, who in turn glared at her mistress. "You are _so_ lucky that you're both a god _and_ my friend," the raven-haired girl growled through grit teeth. Electricity crackled up her arm as Artemis simply chuckled at her friend's expression.

"If I recall correctly you didn't harm Perseus too much when he would tickle you. At least you would hold back on him when compared to anybody else," Artemis said with a hardly noticeable upturn to her lips. Thalia stopped channeling her power and adopted a small smile of her own.

"Fish Face was… he was different. He was an exception," Thalia responded wistfully, her eyes clouding over.

Artemis stared at her lieutenant for a few seconds before turning to face her camp. "Yes… he was always an exception for you wasn't he?" And even though she was addressing Thalia, her voice was far too quiet to be heard.

* * *

 _Purgatory…_

"Move, Young Hero!" Scáthach chastised as her spear narrowly missed Percy's left eye. The young man spun around and sent his leg out, making solid contact with Scáthach's arm. The blood-red spear was knocked away, allowing Percy to close the distance and bring his sword down on the woman. Dropping low, Scáthach managed to buy herself a second before the silver blade of her opponent came down. She dodged right, her body managing to avoid the sharp metal by inches.

Percy backpedaled to evade a particularly wide swing made by his current trainer. Gáe Bolg passed in front of the son of Poseidon's nose, just shy of doing any sort of damage. The two combatants pressed forward at the same time, letting their respective weapons crash against each other with a loud clanging sound. Metal scraped against metal with a vicious screech. Percy felt his sword make a bit of headway as he pushed himself harder than before. His muscles ached as he attempted to break the stalemate between himself and the woman opposing him.

Just as he felt that he was about to break through Scáthach's defense, Percy's sword slid along the length of Gáe Bolg, occasionally getting bumped from the ridges that riddled the spear. With all forms of resistance gone, Percy stumbled forward, realizing that his opponent had loosened her guard on purpose so that he would be thrown off balance. Just as he was about to right himself and reassert his defense, the former demigod felt a sharp stinging sensation tear through his back. Deciding that straightening up would lead to his own demise, he kept falling forward, letting his body carry him into a somersault. He rolled through the mud, feeling the cold rain wash some of the burning pain away from his newly acquired wound. The wind blew his wavy hair through his eyes, making it difficult to see, which was only aggravated by the water dropping from the sky. The storm battered his injured body, and he felt absolutely chilled to the bone because of the combination of rain and wind.

Blinking away the water that fell into his sea-green eyes, Percy raised his sword in time to parry a straight thrust from his opponent. Redirecting the attack, Percy took the chance to grab the middle of the spear, and yanked Scáthach towards him. He had hoped to catch his foe by surprise, but was immediately disappointed when he felt a foot connect with his gut, knocking the air out of his diaphragm. Wheezing, the young man staggered back, releasing his hold on the spear. He felt another searing pain make a line across his chest in a diagonal fashion.

"Never celebrate a tactic early!" Scáthach shouted as she pressed forward with a ferocious series of swipes and stabs, putting Percy on the defensive. The woman made an especially powerful swing and knocked her opponent back several feet.

Percy almost slipped in the slick mud that covered the ground. His narrow misstep was all that Scáthach needed to close the distance and slide her own foot in between his. With her inside his guard, Percy growled when he felt an elbow connect with his chest. The woman then kicked her foot out, which knocked his own leg out from under him. The mud made it difficult to adjust to the change in motion, and Percy fell backwards. He didn't rest though, and instead rolled out of the way, knowing that his foe would never let him get his bearings even when down. Just as he predicted, the tip of Gáe Bolg appeared in the place where Percy's shoulder had once been. Thanks to his quick thinking, the teen had managed to avoid being disabled for the fight.

Continuing his evasive maneuver, Percy pushed himself off the ground and brought his sword up to bear. The loud howling of the wind through the trees sounded like a death bell tolling. The chorus of ghastly wails fell upon deaf ears as Percy and Scáthach crossed weapons over and over. The repeated actions created it's own vile sound, one that combated that of the wind. Percy's ears rang as he crashed his sword against the blood-red spear that was giving him so much grief. Between the numbing sensation of the freezing cold water, the deafening roar of various sounds, and the blinding gale, Percy was working as hard as he could to avoid being seriously wounded.

Of course, over the last month and a half that he had been in Purgatory, he had learned that Angra Mainyu would be quick to treat any injuries that were received through training. While it was very unpleasant to be healed through the power of curses, Percy could definitely admit that it was more effective than ambrosia and nectar. The great thing too was that all he had to do was endure a bit of pain, and he would be practically wound free after a few minutes. Sure the pain was pretty terrible, but it definitely was worth it when it came to healing major lacerations and broken bones.

The current spar had been going on for almost fifteen minutes, and Percy felt drained of stamina. He was nearing his last legs, and he was conscious of the fact that he wouldn't be able to beat Scáthach with how he was performing. Then again, he had yet to even come close to leaving any major damage on the witch of Dún Scáith in any of their training sessions. While they didn't train often per se, Scáthach had insisted on taking over Mordred's duties on more than one occasion. While the Black Knight agreed that it would be wise to train Percy to combat a variety of weapon users, it seemed that the knight wasn't _too_ happy that Scáthach had petitioned Angra Mainyu to always be the spear wielder. Lü Bu, who Percy met the day after he had arrived in Purgatory, had been more than happy to train with the former demigod, but Scáthach had been steadfast in her assertions that learning to fight against a spear like Gáe Bolg would give Percy more motivation to fight harder. Of course she had been right, considering that Gáe Bolg was cursed to leave wounds that didn't heal unless the spear was released back to the Astral Plane, where the witch usually kept it.

That was another thing that Percy found absolutely incredible about the scarlet-eyed woman. She could store a variety of items in the Astral Plane, which is what her former fortress, Dún Scáith held the doors to. Otherwise known as a part of the Otherworld in Irish culture, apparently the Astral Plane was a place equivalent to the Fields of Asphodel in the Underworld. It was a place where the non-descript humans went after death in Ireland. There were other parts of the Otherworld that were equivalent to Elysium and the Fields of Punishment, but Scáthach hadn't spoken much about those areas.

Even though Percy didn't care too much who trained him, he could say that he could do without the extra training that Angra Mainyu subjected him to every night. Percy shivered at the thought of being utterly submerged in the evil _**mud**_ that was used to torture his mind, all under the claim of strengthening his mental barriers. Angra Mainyu had said that in the future he would need to learn how to control his emotions as well as use his control in conjunction with his curse.

Of course Percy had been skeptical, but there was little reason for Ahriman to lie to him, and as such the former demigod simply endured the horrendous feeling of being -for lack of a better term- mind-raped. After every session, Ahriman would try and explain what Percy had done wrong and how he could go about focusing his mind to stop the _**mud**_ from poisoning his thoughts with the vile images. Unfortunately, even with the theory explained to him, Percy still had to do the practical portion of forming mental barriers. This meant that until he successfully repelled the mind invasion, he would suffer night after night of the disgusting torture.

However, even with his distaste for the "training", Percy could admit that the meager mental blocks that he had accomplished so far were put to good use in sparring. The environment of the forest was never calm, and the storm always raged, causing Percy no small amount of grief. His skin was numbed, his vision blurred, his hearing impeded, his nostrils filled with the smell of dirt. He was basically deprived of most of his senses during his training, and as such he was required to use what Muramasa referred to as the "Eye of the Mind." A sixth sense that came naturally to demigods which was a "False" sense, but needed to be trained by normal humans in order to become a "True" technique. It was necessary to maintain a calm mind, even in the most dangerous of situations. This is how Angra Mainyu had decided to train him. Mental fortitude in order to achieve a "True" Eye of the Mind so that he could eventually fight through even broken bones and astounding amounts of pain. The "True" Eye of the Mind would also allow him to get a "sense" for danger before he could be placed in a bad situation.

The son of Poseidon soon realized the mistake of letting his mind wander while fighting against an opponent as frightening as Scáthach. He felt the horrible pain before he could do anything to properly react to what was happening. He cast a quick glance down and saw the tip of Scáthach's spear embedded in his lower thigh. Gasping, Percy threw himself away from his foe, tearing his leg away from Gáe Bolg. His right leg, which had been damaged, buckled under the immense pain that slammed into Percy. With a scream of pain, Percy fell onto the ground, clutching his leg, where blood seeped through his fingers at a rapid pace. The wound was located several inches above his kneecap, and by the way that the blood dyed his hands and leg red Percy had a distinct feeling that a major artery had been severed.

He attempted to scramble away from his opponent, but apparently Scáthach had different ideas. The green-eyed boy felt himself being pulled up as an arm snaked around his waist. He was hefted and slung over Scáthach's shoulder like a sack of potatoes would have been handled. He grunted as the air left his lungs when his trainer's shoulder dug into his gut and he tried to wriggle into a more comfortable position.

"I hope that you've learned not to go and get distracted during a fight," Scáthach remarked as she hauled him away from the crater-filled area where they had been training.

Percy groaned a bit as he replied, "Yeah yeah, could you hurry up before I die of blood loss?"

Scáthach shook her head and carried her student out of the maze of dead trees as fast as she could. The two had already agreed that training too far into the never-ending forest would only lead to very dangerous situations in regards to treating injuries, and so the training spars took place close to the forest edge, where Angra Mainyu had his manor. Sighing, Scáthach took out a small golden pendant in the shape of a torch and whispered to it. Not even a moment later the God of Evil himself stepped out of a fine red mist that had accumulated.

"What happened?" Angra Mainyu asked with an exasperated expression. He was wearing a comically yellow poncho so that he would stay dry in the raging storm.

"I caught him daydreaming or something, so I may or may not have broken his femur… and in the process cut through his descending genicular artery." Scáthach said unapologetically if her slight shrug was anything to reference.

"Can you not shrug like that? It's pretty damn uncomfortable when you do that with me in this position," Percy said with a slight slur to his speech. It seemed that he was starting to feel the effects of rapid blood loss.

"Alright, let's get inside and get you treated then." With that being said, the God of Evil allowed the red mist to envelop himself along with his two charges and whisk them back into the mansion.

* * *

 _Uppsala, Sweden…_

Hestia sat in the spacious meeting room of the Radisson Blu Hotel. She had admired the comfortable seats and the long rectangular table that stretched for nearly twenty feet. Sunlight streamed in through the wide windows that lined three of the walls that the room had. Unfortunately, even as she sat, calmly sipping her lemonade, around her the atmosphere was anything but relaxed and amiable.

' _Leave it to my nephew to stir up trouble almost immediately.'_ The goddess thought to herself, closing her eyes and sighing softly into her drink. She took a long sip and opened her eyes once more. The scene that greeted her was that of aggression and mistrust.

The five pantheons had all gathered in a mortal hotel, and the hope was that with innocents around that tempers would be curved in favor of not incinerating random humans that were in the area. The Goddess of the Hearth observed each of the gods that were gathered carefully. Off to her left were the hosts of the Five Culture Summit.

The Norse had sent a small retinue, consisting of Odin, the All-Father and chief of the Æsir-Vanir coalition of gods. He was dressed in a flowing blue and white tunic that fell all the way to his feet. His hair was gray and untamed on his head, and his beard was long, stretching down to his chest. His face had a few scars on it, though the main characteristic that some might point to was the missing left eye. The All-Father's right eye was deep gray, somewhat similar to Athena's own stormy gray.

After him came Thor, with his long red hair and scruffy red beard. The man was built heavily, ready for battle at a moment's notice. His eyes were light blue in color, though it was difficult to discern due to how they were currently narrowed in slight disdain. The Norse God of Thunder had on a pair of casual jeans and a crisp black leather jacket, setting his appearance similar to Ares in a way.

The final member of the Norse retinue was a tall woman with strong facial features, framed softly by her cascading, wavy, silver-blonde hair. Her light green eyes twinkled a little as she looked at the bristling power of the other pantheons. Freyja, the Goddess of Fertility, War, Beauty, and Love sat with her legs crossed as her eyes roamed the meeting room. The goddess wore a black tank-top, which accentuated her strong, lithe frame and jeans that snugly fit her lower body. With her arms crossed, the goddess looked positively unfettered when compared to the tense environment.

Hestia met the All-Father's gaze, and she inclined her head in a sign of respect for him. He gave her a small smile, his right eye almost glittering in amusement at the situation, though Hestia could definitely tell that he was exasperated nonetheless.

Sitting directly across from the Greeks was the Shinto delegation, which consisted of four members altogether. The primary Shinto Trinity was present, which included the likes of Amaterasu, Susanoo, and Tsukuyomi. The last member of the Japanese group was the God of War, Hachiman.

Amaterasu was sitting stiffly while glaring balefully at Ares, and Hestia could see the tension in her body as she undoubtedly tried to restrain herself from attacking the Greek war god. The Japanese Goddess of the Sun had long hair, black as pitch, and golden yellow eyes that held unnatural power as they radiated both warmth and power at the same time. Her perfect porcelain skin seemed to glow in the rays of the sun. The solar goddess was garbed in a traditional Japanese kimono, made of the finest silk and dyed a fine jade green. There was a dark blue sash tied around her waist, and two hanging silver earrings completed her regal ensemble.

Her brother Tsukuyomi was lounging back in his chair, though if the clenching of his fist was any indication he too was doing his damnedest to not let loose his potent godly aura in the hotel meeting room. The Japanese God of the Moon, like his sister, had dark hair, which was tied back in a ponytail. He had a youthful look about him, though his face seemed stern. His eyes were dark brown, almost to the point of being black, just like his pupils, making it difficult to stare at the man's irides for too long without becoming unnerved. He was dressed in a deep blue kimono, with a purple sash tied around his waist. He radiated a cool, stoic, aura, and the sun seemed to bounce off his skin and almost tarnished his image.

Susanoo, the Shinto God of Storms, was looming over the table that separated him from the target of his ire. Hestia noted that the God of Storms was being held back by his sister, though that did nothing to hide the fury in his dark blue eyes. The man had short hair, and a goatee, both dark in color. Susanoo wore a simple pair of black shorts mixed with his pastel blue t-shirt. On the top of his head sat a pair of aviator sunglasses, and he had both ears pierced with small diamond studs.

The last god in the Shinto company was a tall, severe looking man with a deep scar running from one cheek, across the bridge of his nose, and to the other cheek. He had chocolate brown eyes, though they were hardened and intimidating to look at. Hachiman, the God of War, had a sneer on his face as he held a fully black katana up to the throat of Ares. Hachiman wore a black dress shirt along with a pair of black pants. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, showing the gold watch on his left wrist, along with the multitude of scars that ran the length of his forearms.

"Care to repeat your previous statement, _Ares?_ " Hachiman asked venomously, his eyes burning with anger. His godly aura fluctuated as he attempted to calm himself a bit, so as to not cause collateral damage. His gripped his katana tightly, and he pressed it a bit closer to Ares' jugular.

The Greek war god gave his Japanese counterpart a dark smirk. "Sure. I said, maybe if you and your people weren't so pathetic, you wouldn't have been dominated by the West." Ares did nothing to push the sword away from his body, knowing that any slight provocation could result in his own demise. In Hestia's opinion, it had been an oversight by her youngest brother to bring Ares to the conference, since it was known that he had a hard time controlling what came out of his mouth. Then again, the Goddess of the Hearth had to wonder if perhaps her foolish and bloodthirsty nephew _wanted_ to start a mass war of the gods. He wouldn't put it past him, as unfortunate as that was.

"Of course," Ares continued, much to the consternation of the other Greeks, "That goes for the rest of you lot too. We kicked your asses back then, and we can kick your asses again today if we wanted!"

Artemis palmed her face and shook her head. "You know… there is such a thing as diplomatic tact. Combine that with not being a relative moron and we might have been able to have an amiable conversation with the others you dimwit." The Goddess of the Moon hissed at her half-brother, obviously displeased with how he was handling things up until that point.

"Yes, I believe that it would have been for the best if you had allowed us to speak prior to yourself my nephew," Hestia said with a soft sigh escaping her lips.

Fondly, the kind goddess recalled another man who spoke his mind often, although in a much less aggravating manner. Perhaps her favorite demigod nephew, Percy Jackson had always managed to make situations worse before he made them exponentially better. His tongue-in-cheek remarks would often earn him the spite of many supernatural beings, though he would then inexplicably gain their grudging respect in some way. It was truly a gift to be able to do something so blatantly contradictory.

The Goddess of the Hearth smiled softly at the memory of when the Hero of Olympus had acknowledged her when the Second Titanomachy had ended. She had been sitting at her usual spot in Camp Half-Blood where she could watch the comings and goings of the demigods, content to relax after having confronted her father Kronos on Olympus. It had taken quite a bit out of her in order to heat her father's symbol of power to where he couldn't use it, and while nobody knew, she had been terrified of challenging the Titan King. So after Kronos had been defeated, Hestia had decided to simply rest for some time at the demigod camp. When she had locked eyes with Percy, she had gestured for him to keep quiet about her position, though she could see that he held a great amount of respect for her.

They hadn't spoken very much after that, but even still, Hestia felt that Percy considered her family. It fell under her domain of family after all. While she had gone for centuries without knowing that feeling, and constantly telling herself that all she wanted was to keep her Olympian family safe, she could never deny the feeling of joy that being acknowledged brought to her. Very few ever remembered Hestia as being an important goddess, and fewer still viewed her as family. In fact, only about half of the Olympians held her in such a familial regard. So when Percy had come and given her that feeling of family, it was all she could do not to immediately latch on and never let go.

She had hoped that she would at least get a bit of time to learn more about her newly recognized nephew, but then the Second Gigantomachy had broken any hope of peace. With everything raging as it was, the Goddess of the Hearth had to put her hopes on hold for a while during the crisis. Once it had all ended, her favorite nephew had then gone and given her a place back on the Olympian council. He had said that she was a vital part of Olympus and that she "should be recognized as such".

After both wars had ended, Hestia had tried to see him more often, but she knew the Ancient Laws prohibited long-term exposure between god and mortal, meaning she would be limited with how much time she could spend with the Hero of Olympus.

That, however, hadn't stopped them from becoming something akin to friends. It was during that same time Hestia noticed that Percy was having a bit of a tough time at camp. She could see that something was afflicting him, and if she had wanted she probably could have tried to use her familial connection to read his surface thoughts a bit, just to see if she could be of any assistance. She had decided against using their connection that way though, not wanting to cause any bad blood between the two for a perceived invasion of privacy, even if the intentions were pure. No, she wouldn't push him like that.

Then things had once more been upheaved, and the new prophecy had come about. Hestia had tried to curb the paranoia that plagued the Olympians, but even with her vehement opposal to the original plan, she had been overruled. A very selfish part of her though, was somewhat in approval of the scheme, since then she would be able to spend more time with Percy without the Ancient Laws to interfere. The Goddess of the Hearth loathed that part of her though, knowing that Percy would never willingly become a god, which meant that Percy would need to be forced for her desire to be granted.

Sighing to herself, Hestia pulled thoughts of the Hero of Olympus out of her mind to focus her attention on the dilemma before her.

"You would do well to watch that tongue of yours Ares. Someday you'll start a fight that you can't finish," Indra taunted, sniffing imperiously at the Greeks. He was dressed the same as when he had visited Olympus. "That is, of course, provided you still have a tongue when that day comes."

To Indra's immediate left, a man wearing a plaid, white and blue shirt snorted in derision. "Hah! Oh please, somebody will get tired of his idiocy soon enough and make him regret his words. In fact, I would be more than happy to be the one to perform the deed right here and now!"

The one who had spoken was shorter than Indra, standing at near five feet ten inches tall. His skin was a lighter tone than Indra's, and his eyes were sky blue. He had a narrow face, and a weak chin, though he had high cheekbones and sharp almond shaped eyes. Vayu, the Hindu God of Wind, glared at Ares, though there was a self-satisfied grin breaking on his face at seeing Ares grow red in the face.

"Perhaps we can find a better use for all the energy that we're wasting here? We barely got a few sentences into our discussion before it deteriorated into a petty squabble," A smooth voice said from behind Vayu. Stepping to the side, Vayu revealed Agni, the Hindu God of Fire. The god had two faces facing away from one another on his head, much like Janus from the Greek pantheon. The only difference was that the heads were constantly rotating around, making it difficult to sustain eye contact. Much like Hestia's own eyes, Agni's were completely made out of fire, though his burned wildly, occasionally licking portions of his face and eyebrows. The God of Fire had no shirt on, with several long chains hanging from around his neck which all fell down to the middle of his torso. He had on red pants, so he was at least somewhat modest when in the presence of others. Tattoos riddled his chest, most being in a flame pattern. Agni had thin lips on both faces, and both were strong and aristocratic, with very symmetrical features making him quite attractive.

"That would be very nice. I find this mindless bickering to be a bit tedious, wouldn't you agree Indra?" Soma, the Hindu God of the Moon and Inspiration said, his sparkling silver eyes holding no shortage of mirth in them. His skin was alabaster white, and his face was not very defined or chiseled, unlike his fellow Hindu gods. He had a crooked nose, and his hair was also a silver-white color, shining in the light. He had windswept black hair that reminded Hestia of her favorite nephew.

Zeus held out his arm, blocking Ares from doing or saying anything else that might embarrass himself. A warning glance was directed towards the now properly cowed Greek God of War. Ares gave a final glare towards the Hindu faction and backed up so that Hachiman's sword no longer rested at his throat. The petulant god sat down heavily in his chair and crossed his arms in a huff.

"I thank you for not escalating the situation too much," Zeus said, his gaze on Agni, who simply nodded back to the King of the Olympians. "My son can be quite… difficult… to deal with in many instances. Please, with this distraction dealt with perhaps we can get back to a more proper subject."

Hestia could tell that her youngest brother was doing his best to act as respectful as he could. While he wouldn't admit it, Zeus must have been intimidated by the sheer number of gods that had past grievances with the Greeks in one room. Outnumbered and having no home-field advantage meant that Zeus would need to tread carefully, and try to be as diplomatic as possible. Inciting violence would undoubtedly cause backlash with the Norse, who were hosting in a very religious center. The area of Gamla Uppsala could be traced back several centuries, and the grounds were blessed for the Norse. Long ago there had been a Pagan temple there, dedicated to many of the Æsir gods, and even though it had been destroyed many centuries prior, the land was still consecrated and brimming with Old World magic.

Hestia was quite pleased that Zeus was learning how to temper his own pride. It would be a major life improvement for many Olympians if they didn't have to constantly deal with an arrogant king.

"Yes, let's move on with this. However, we would still like a formal apology of course. The past it may be, however, that doesn't excuse your actions from your time controlling the United Kingdom," Amaterasu said calmly, folding her arms in the sleeves of her kimono. She held her head up and stared directly into Zeus' eyes, her gaze steely and unyielding.

Zeus looked at the other gods around the room, noticing that many were nodding in assent at Amaterasu's assertion. Hestia saw the muscles in Zeus' neck strain as he took deep, calming breaths. Amaterasu must have seen the King of Olympus struggling as well, because she had an amused smirk on her face as she waited for Zeus to speak. Before anything could be said, the large double doors to the meeting room opened, revealing Sobek, the Egyptian God of the Nile and Crocodiles. He was a very tall man, standing at near seven feet tall, much like Indra. With his reptilian gray eyes that were slitted, and oddly sharp teeth, he looked the most alien out of all the gods present.

It was well known that many Egyptian gods took on their divine forms as human-animal hybrids. When they roamed the mortal plane they had to conceal themselves much like all the gods, so that humans wouldn't up and combust within their presence. Of course, just like every other god, they still retained some form of semblance to their divine forms, and as such the Egyptians looked odd even in their human disguises. If they wanted they could change to something more natural, but they usually forwent such details in favor of staying "as close to their true selves as they can".

Sobek strode into the room with his arms crossed and made his way back to the very far end of the long table, where the rest of his people waited. The God of Crocodiles wore a green sweater vest over a white shirt. When combined with his neatly ironed khaki pants, he looked as if he were ready to go golfing. Sobek's hair was cut short and unstyled, making him look like a true "soccer-dad".

"Sobek, what of the demigods?" Freyja asked, her tinkling voice floating through the room with unnatural grace and great power. Hestia practically felt the energy that radiated from the three Norse gods, though it was no surprise. Being so close to a natural place of worship was working wonders for them it appeared.

The questioned shrugged nonchalantly and sat down next to Neith, the Goddess of Hunting and Weaving, who happened to be Sobek's mother. "The offspring are tense, just like we are. It's a good thing we didn't let them come in here, I think that the oppressive aura that we're exuding is affecting them, even in the other room." Sobek replied as he steepled his fingers.

Hestia sighed with relief that no fights had broken out between the children of the gods. She and some others had suggested that the half-bloods be kept in another room, separate from the gods, since there was potential for conflict. Of course, this would also serve to help create connections between the different cultures, at least, that was Hestia's hope. Many of the gods had brought one of their children along, just to show goodwill towards the other pantheons. It was symbolic, in a way, that the young generation be introduced to one another in hopes of forging a better future.

"I am glad that there has been no physical altercation," Neith said gently. The Goddess of Hunting sat straight, her shocking green eyes scanning the room constantly. Her black hair was braided and hung over one shoulder. She was wearing a heavy jacket and black cargo pants, contrasting with her otherwise soft-spoken demeanor.

"I don't see why they shouldn't get in a fight every now and again. Through combat, character is built. At least that's been the Norse motto for thousands of years." Thor drawled, leaning his head against one fist.

"While normally I would agree, we are currently attempting peaceful diplomacy," Osiris, the Egyptian God of the Afterlife, Transition, and Resurrection stated. His dark eyes swept across the room, the sun shining on his oddly green skin, as if he was perpetually suffering from vertigo. He was wearing a white robe that fell down to his feet, and a large, ceremonial headdress that was inlaid with multiple precious gems. Barely visible was a long, deep scar that ran the entire length of his neck. The scar, as far as Hestia recalled, was only one of many after his brother killed him and split his body into fourteen parts. Osiris' face had a gaunt appearance to it, and he was slouched in his chair, showing a sign of fatigue.

The woman beside him placed a gentle hand against his cheek. Isis, the Goddess of Magic, Health, and Marriage, looked worriedly at her husband, seeing that he was having a bit of trouble sitting straight. Looking out at the gathered gods she sighed and gave them an apologetic smile.

"I apologize if Osiris seems tired. Trouble is brewing in our court currently, which is part of the reason that a delegation was even sent to this summit," Isis admitted, garnering a displeased grunt from her husband. The goddess frowned at Osiris and lightly slapped his shoulder. "Don't give me that look my love."

Geb, the God of Earth, and the final member of the Egyptian group spoke next. "We are here solely to ensure that no action will be taken against our pantheon while we deal with the internal threat that has arisen." His dark brown eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the Greek retinue pointedly. Geb was the only Egyptian standing, and at seven feet tall, with his strong build and chiseled face, he cut a very imposing figure. Geb had dark brown skin, and his hair was medium in length and slicked back.

"This internal threat you mention… wouldn't happen to be Apophis _(1)_ would it?" Freyja asked, her eyebrow raised.

The Egyptian group looked amongst one another, seemingly debating something with they eyes. After a few seconds, it was Neith who spoke. "Yes, Apophis woke from his slumber several years ago. He has been causing small problems among our people for some time, but lately, he's become much more… aggressive."

Hestia watched as Odin turned to Thor and Freyja. The Norse retinue whispered to one another, occasionally casting a glance at the other gods. The Goddess of the Hearth pulled at Artemis' sleeve and pulled her closer.

"What do you believe would be the right course of action?" Hestia inquired of her niece.

Artemis let her eyes flit around the room before she turned back to her aunt. "I think we should attempt to secure some form of non-aggression pact with all those present. We are in no condition to go to war again. The half-bloods… they're moral is low, rightfully so. We should also find an ally or two among the other pantheons."

Hestia nodded in assent, giving Artemis an approving smile. "I'm glad you are thinking so progressively. I too believe that we should look to form strong bonds with the other gods. Too long have we isolated and demonized ourselves. Now should be a time for unification. Perhaps the Egyptians will allow us to aid them in some way with Apophis?"

Giving her aunt a small shake of her head, Artemis rebuffed, "I doubt that the Egyptians would trust us enough in that endeavor. An alliance with them would be difficult, though an alliance with the Norse is certainly possible. Perhaps we can also mend bridges with the Shinto."

"And what exactly are we conversing of?" Hades asked, leaning down after he had moved closer to Hestia and Artemis. The King of the Underworld looked between his elder sister and his niece, a skeptical eyebrow poised.

Before Hestia could respond Odin's voice cut through the quiet whispers of all the other pantheons. "We too would like to come forward and declare that Fenrir _(2)_ and Jörmungandr _(3)_ have both disappeared from their original imprisonment. As most of you know these are two monsters that will assist in the prophecy of Ragnarök. Fenrir is prophesized to kill me, while Jörmungandr and Thor are destined to slay each other in single combat. With this in mind, many of our gods have been keeping an eye on Muspelheim _(4)_ to ensure that Surtr _(5)_ does not start to rally the Eldjotnar _(6)_. Hel _(7)_ has declared complete neutrality, which is worrisome. Worst of all…" Odin took a pause to rub his forehead tiredly, "Somehow, Ymir has been given life once more."

Several of the gathered gods shifted uncomfortably as they listened to the All-Father give his report. Hestia looked down at hearing that Ymir had been resurrected somehow. She had a sinking feeling that the father of all giants would want revenge for his slaughter by the hands of Odin and his two brothers, Vili and Vé. Apparently, it had been a terrible battle that swept across the world when Odin and his brothers combated Ymir, but they had eventually won against the Norse Father of Giants.

Indra cleared his throat and spoke with his usual nonchalance, "I'm afraid things look precarious for the Hindu pantheon as well. Vritra, the Dragon of Drought and my natural enemy has risen once again. Along with him, his mother Danu, and the Danavas have also come back to pester me and my lands. The Trimurti _(8)_ do not wish to descend upon the mortal plane, and have entrusted their creations upon myself, meaning that I have the unenviable task to once again defeat Vritra and drive back the Danavas." Indra sighed and shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Honestly, I'm already getting a headache from all this."

At this, Hestia stroked her chin in thought. She looked around the room and noticed that every god was now sporting a worried expression on their face. Obviously, none of the pantheons had known just how far the discord had spread. Honestly, Hestia was glad that the Second Titanomachy and Gigantomachy had passed when they did. This truly presented a fantastic opportunity for the Greeks to aid some of their cultural counterparts. With their own rule secured, they would be free to send help to whoever would accept it.

"What I gather so far is that only the Shinto, along with ourselves have a secure home front." The Goddess of the Hearth stated more than asked. Many gods turned to her, their eyes reflecting the unasked question. Hestia ignored them for a moment while she turned to the Japanese gods. "Would I be correct in this assumption Lady Amaterasu?"

Said goddess nodded tentatively as she eyed Hestia. "You would be, yes. We have had no issues at home in many years, thank the creators. Why is it you ask Lady Hestia?" The Goddess of the Sun asked respectfully.

The brunette goddess in question smiled at the room of assembled superpowers. "I believe that this would be a good time to build positive relationships. What I am about to propose may seem ludicrous to some, however, I wish for all of you to consider the benefits before you speak out."

There were some nods throughout the room, showing agreement to the terms, while others simply stared, waiting to hear what Hestia wanted to say. Zeus looked at his elder sister with narrowed eyes, a look that Hestia caught easily enough. Hades seemed pensive, and Athena was more than likely running some form of arithmetic calculation through her brain. Artemis was leaning forward in her seat, while Ares had put his head back and closed his eyes, having long since drifted off to sleep.

"I would like to ask the Norse that they allow us to aid them in whatever way we can. I also believe that the Shinto could take the time to aid the Hindu," Hestia declared confidently with a bright smile on her face. She swept her arm across the room gesturing to the other gobsmacked gods. "Don't you see? This is a wonderful opportunity to help one another overcome millennia of xenophobia and prejudices that have been set in place. We can assist one another in building a better world. We can be united from here on against those who would bring harm to us or our families."

There was a long silence, many of the gods looked between one another, obviously skeptical about what Hestia had proposed. It took only a few seconds before a loud burst of raucous laughter tore through the room. Hestia looked at Odin, who was doubled over, clutching his stomach with one hand and steadying himself on the table with the other. The booming laugh wasn't mocking in any way, which raised Hestia's spirit a bit at seeing the All-Father in such a state. After nearly a minute of laughter, the chief Norse god straightened himself, still chuckling every now and then.

"Su-Such… a bold m-move my Lady Hestia," Odin said as he tried to suppress the remaining laughs that escaped his lips. "I wholeheartedly approve of this proposal. I will gladly accept the Greeks' help in this situation."

Thor looked vapidly at the Greeks, before shrugging his shoulders, indicating that he had no issues with his father's decision. Freyja inspected the Greeks as well, her shimmering green eyes roaming to each god. When her eyes landed on Hestia, the two goddesses smiled at one another. She too looked at Odin and nodded her head in affirmation of his decree. With his company having approved, Odin clapped his hands together, mirth dancing across his face.

"Excellent! What say the Shinto and Hindu factions? Will you work together to usher in a new and prosperous age?" The All-Father asked happily, though there was a hint of warning beneath his cordial words. Indra caught onto his veiled threat, and almost glared at the Norse deity before he caught himself and schooled his expression.

"Allow me to consult with the rest of my council and I will send the Shinto a missive when an agreement has been reached," Indra responded, inclining his head towards Amaterasu. He turned his eyes to Hestia and gave her a wry smile. "Your proposal makes sense, even if it is quite ambitious."

The Japanese Goddess of the Sun pondered the idea, letting her eyes roam the table in front of her. She heaved a sigh, and slowly stood up. She crossed the distance between where she had been seated, and where Indra lounged. Her movement was graceful and smooth as if she were the sun itself gliding across a clear sky. She stopped directly before the Hindu God of Thunderstorms and gave him a small bow. Indra raised an eyebrow before he stood up himself and returned her courtesy. The goddess held out a small, delicate hand to him, which he took, brushing his lips against her knuckles.

"The Shinto faction will wait patiently for your missive. I'm certain that those in my court will agree that this… partnership… will be beneficial if something were to occur. We can discuss the details, should your council agree, at a later date." Amaterasu stated, her voice flowing and calm. Those in her group watched carefully as their leader walked back to her original position.

"While it is well and good that you lot have formed alliances, would you care to tell my people where this leaves the Egyptians?" Sobek asked warily, his eyes flitting between each pantheon.

"Surely Apophis can't be so troublesome that you cannot handle him yourselves?" Hades replied, genuine curiosity lacing his tone. He looked at each of the Egyptians, who all seemed worried as they whispered to one another.

"We are not trying to form alliances for invasion, but rather for protection, Sobek. I apologize if it seemed like I was attempting to leave the Egyptians in a bad way." Hestia said quickly, hoping to curb any doubts about the integrity of her suggestion.

"While we would like to take you at face value, you can understand why we would be skeptical about the Greeks motives," Neith responded evenly, obviously also trying to play the arbiter. "Our two pantheons found themselves at odds multiple times in the past, and the blood of our children was spilled for far too long."

Hestia nodded in acceptance and sighed. It was then that Indra spoke up.

"Well, the Hindu have no quarrel with the Egyptians. I would be willing to offer a similar partnership after speaking with the council and the Trimurti. We are also perhaps the closest to one another, which would allow for easy travel if trouble should arise in your or our lands," the God of Rain said smoothly.

Neith inclined her head in thanks. "I see, yes that offer seems very fair. Nobody in our ensemble present can speak definitively for the whole Egyptian pantheon. We will also send an envoy to Mount Meru once a true decision has been made regarding your generous proposition."

Hestia looked at the gods that surrounded her, smiling at seeing that her proposal had been so accepted. She was glad that diplomacy had won the day, and that it seemed even centuries of intolerance and long-held grudges were slowly starting to crumble in the face of adversity. She sent silent thanks to whoever was pulling the strings because without their interference the new united front would never have come to be. The Goddess of the Hearth observed each pantheon as they got lost in their own negotiations, speaking to one another about possible interaction between large groups of demigods.

' _Yes, perhaps a better future can be provided after all.'_

* * *

 _With Percy…_

Sea-green eyes watched as Angra Mainyu moved forward, clutching a girl, perhaps no older than ten by her hair. The girl was struggling in his grasp, kicking and screaming at him repeatedly, desperate to break from his deathly tight grip. Percy recoiled when the God of Evil threw the girl to the floor and gave her one swift kick to her abdomen. The girl yelped in pain, and another foot caught her in the jaw, sending her reeling back from the blow. Percy felt righteous anger burn within his chest. He struggled against the chains that bound him to the wall of the cell he was in.

He felt the cold metal press deeply into his wrists as he pulled with all his might. His muscles strained, and the son of Poseidon was aware of the blood that was trickling down his arms. The metal bit into his skin, drawing more blood as Percy screamed against the rag that muffled his voice. Percy felt his heart break as he watched the girl writhe on the ground, holding her abused jaw with one hand while trying to push herself up with the other. The white-haired god sneered with disdain as Percy shouted profanities at him, though none could be heard beneath the rag.

As the girl slowly rose from the gray cobblestone, Angra Mainyu dropped to her level in a crouch. Gripping her face with his hand, he pulled her face close to his. Percy felt ill as he heard the girl scream while Ahriman moved her broken jaw side to side. The God of Evil suddenly backhanded the girl, sending her head snapping to the side. Moving forward, the deity stood up and planted the bottom of his foot against the back of the girl's head. Roughly pushing forward, Ahriman slammed the girl's face into the stone. He slowly moved his foot in a circular motion, before moving away from the girl completely. Percy watched as Ahriman stalked towards his bound form.

The son of Poseidon glared hatefully at All the World's Evils. He struggled more as Angra Mainyu kneeled and smiled cheerfully. Percy moved his head forward quickly, almost connecting with the god's nose. Unfortunately, he missed when the god of his ire arched his own head back to avoid the impromptu attack. Ahriman chuckled softly and wagged his finger in front of Percy's face.

"Tut, tut, tut. Come now Percy, I'm giving you some company and you go and attack me for it? Did your mother teach you any manners?" The god asked in faux disappointment, shaking his head.

The muffled sounds of Percy's voice made Ahriman smile. He stood back up and walked back to the girl, who was curled in a ball, sobbing into her hands. Upon seeing the shadow of her tormentor approach, the girl scrambled to get away, but she was caught by the arm in an iron strong grip. She grunted in exertion as she vainly attempted to free her arm. Percy watched in horror as Ahriman placed the flat of his palm against her back, with her left arm still held tightly. In one swift move, Ahriman yanked her arm back, keeping her torso from turning with it, causing the arm to detach from its socket. The girl cried out in anguish as her arm fell limply to her side.

Turning around, Ahriman waved at the son of Poseidon happily and gestured to the girl. "I hope you don't mind too much if I rough up your new cellmate. I'll heal her later, but for now, she's going to have to learn pain, just like you have. That is of course unless you break free of your chains and save her…" The smile that crossed Angra Mainyu's face made Percy shiver.

With renewed vigor, Percy fought against that which restrained him. He felt the pain of his wrists and trembled when he saw Ahriman throw the girl roughly against the opposite wall of where he was. The cell was filled with the sounds of the girl's sobs and whimpers, along with the rattling of the chains that refused to break under Percy's ministrations. The teen screamed when he saw Ahriman grip her throat and lift her small body off the ground. The girl kicked her legs and feebly clawed at her captor's hand, struggling more and more as her breath was cut short. Ahriman held the girl up for a few more seconds before he brutally planted his fist in her stomach, rattling the girl's body. He let her fall to the ground as she held her stomach and gasped for air. He let her take a few greedy gulps before grabbing her by the back of the head and shoving her onto the small cot that lay next to her.

The girl cried loudly as she scampered away from the God of Evil, who simply gave her a disinterested glance. Turning away from his younger prey, the god appeared in front of Percy, slamming his fist into the former demigod's face. Percy's skull impacted the wall behind him painfully, and his vision flickered between light and dark for several seconds. After regaining his senses, Percy felt searing hot pain lance through his suspended right arm. He gasped as the pain tore its way down the length of his arm, and cried out in anguish. Ahriman pulled the sharp obsidian rock away from Percy's arm and held the stone in front of Percy's face.

"Child Abuse… that's what I carved onto your arm. That's the sin for today. If you hurt that child in the corner, I'll let you go." Ahriman said seriously, his eyes cold and calculating. Brown irides bore into Percy's own sea-green, and Percy realized that the man was telling the truth. His eyes traitorously moved to the crying girl on the cot, before he tore his eyes from her battered form and glared at Ahriman with disgust.

The god sighed with resignation. "No? Well admittedly I didn't think so… at least not yet. No… it'll take time to break you to the point where you'll do it. But we have time…"

He moved back up, and Percy's other arm was engulfed in pain. Blood streaked down his arms, drenching the shirt he was wearing and painting it dark red. The son of Poseidon felt the pain lift slightly and once more found himself face to face with his torturer. Ahriman put the obsidian tool against Percy's cheek. Drawing a thin line across the teen's face, Ahriman sneered at his chained captive and thrust the obsidian into Percy's shoulder. Percy screamed against his makeshift gag as the volcanic glass tore through his tendon and tissue, scraping against the bone. Ahriman pulled the tool out of Percy's shoulder and gave a brutal kick to the gut. Groaning, Percy's breathing was ragged as Ahriman walked towards the girl.

"It's easy Percy. All you have to do is break the girl, and I don't have to break you. What's holding you back? Some sense of morality? Guess what kid? We'll be marching off to war soon. There are no morals in war. Kill or be killed. Get information out of the enemy any way you can, and you might just prevent your friends and allies from walking into a death trap." Angra Mainyu admonished as he bent over the form of the girl.

"War is all hell, Percy!" The god shouted as he stomped his foot onto the girl's ankle, snapping it with ease. The girl screamed hoarsely, and Percy screamed with her, wishing he still had the strength to fight against the chains. "You'll have to learn how to be brutal! You'll have to torture and maim those who don't really deserve it! Somebody you might think is innocent could hold key information about the enemy! For all you know this girl could tell us exactly what Spenta Mainyu was planning. He might believe that we would never debase ourselves to this level. He might assume that we're above torturing children. _He was wrong._ "

Percy let tears fall freely down his face as he watched Ahriman cut through the girl's thigh methodically. He moved his way up, slowly mutilating the once pristine skin. Blood coated her body, covering the once light California tan and turning it red. Percy screamed as his body shook, sobs racking his body. Storm-gray eyes met his own, accusing him of his own pathetic efforts. Her blonde hair fell around her head messily, and Percy could do nothing but wish he could help. The sharp obsidian piece carved it's way past her waist, and up her torso. The ten-year-old version of Annabeth Chase stared at Percy, who could only cry at her suffering. Volcanic glass tore into her abdomen.

And so they screamed, both pleading for help, both pleading for death to claim them.

* * *

 _With Angra Mainyu…_

"The summit seemed to have gone without a hitch, considering that when the gods left the hotel there was no fighting. I felt a bit of a build up in their divine aura at the beginning, but after that, things were calm." Muramasa drawled, scratching his chin lazily.

Angra Mainyu nodded his head seriously and steepled his fingers. He wrote down the information in a journal that sat in his lap. The fire crackled in the meeting room, where only he and Muramasa sat. Leaning back in his seat the God of Evil sighed as he felt his trainee slowly lose himself in the grip of the evil _**mud**_. The mental training was progressing slowly, seeing as how Percy was far too easy to break when faced with harming his friends, family, or the innocent. When coaxed with criminals or monsters, the son of Poseidon usually could stomach to torture. But when it came to anything else… it was certainly like pulling teeth.

Muramasa raised an eyebrow at seeing the god clench his jaw tightly. "Something on your mind Big A?" The swordsmith asked.

"What did I say about that nickname?" Ahriman growled, hand twitching as he refrained from doing something rash. He could always heal any wounds inflicted on his assistant's of course, though that never encouraged him to take violent action against them. Oh, he would threaten them, but it was rare that he would actually follow through with any threat. A healthy worker is a happy worker, and a happy worker is an efficient worker as they say.

Muramasa looked at the God of Evil with a smirk. "You definitely said to never use that nickname again. But come on Big A… it's just too good!"

"... I'm very much resisting the urge to punch you… Oh no… The Urge… Too strong…" Ahriman said flatly as he let his fist collide with Muramasa's gut. The Japanese bladesmith wheezed and fell back over his chair. Struggling to stand after the strong blow, Muramasa stood on shaky knees, gasping for breath. He gave the deity a scowl but started to chuckle after a few seconds.

"T-totally… worth it…" The man groaned. After about a minute of silence, during which Muramasa calmed down and Angra Mainyu flipped through his notebook, the swordsmith decided to speak. "How's the kid doing?"

Ahriman closed the notebook and placed it off to the side. He stood up and walked to the fireplace, watching the flames flicker. Muramasa followed after a few moments, standing a foot behind the god.

"He's… making some progress with regards to mental fortitude. He refuses to move past his own honor and kindheartedness, which is holding him back immensely. He's too stubborn to do what I ask, and for that he continues to suffer. It doesn't help that he can't shield himself against the mental attacks that the _**mud**_ inflicts. Eventually…" Ahriman trailed off, mulling over his next words. "Eventually… he might get pushed too far. If he doesn't do something to strengthen his mind, either by becoming a monster or by becoming a machine, he won't last much longer. He needs to either accept the anger, hatred, and pain, or he needs to block out all emotion. It's all on him now."

Muramasa didn't say anything for some time, and Angra Mainyu almost thought the bladesmith had left until he heard the man speak once again. "Why are you putting him through this? You didn't do this with anybody else… why him?"

Ahriman hesitated only for a second before responding. "He's the key. He's the one who will end all of this… and he needs to be strong in order to win against Spenta Mainyu."

"And what about the rest of us? What about you?"

"You all have your parts to play. Most of you accept your own mortality."

"And you?"

"...I'll play the role that is necessary. But Percy… he's above being the marionette. He's the one without strings… and I'm going to keep it that way. Hopefully, he'll finish this training, and then we can move on."

"He's the key huh?"

"Yes, Perseus Ajax Jackson is going to change this world...willingly or not."

* * *

 **A/N: (1) Apophis- The Egyptian God of Chaos, Evil, and Serpents. Apophis constantly attempts to swallow the barge on which Ra, the Sun God, rides every day.**

 **(2) Fenrir- Son of Loki in Norse Myth. Takes the form of a large wolf. Is tricked by the gods into being chained, but takes retribution by biting off the hand of Tyr. Is destined to swallow Odin whole during Ragnarok.**

 **(3) Jormungandr- Son of Loki in Norse Myth. Takes the form of a giant serpent long enough to encircle the entire world. Can also be referred to as Midgardsormr. Destined to mutual death with Thor.**

 **(4) Muspelheim- Realm of the Fire Giants in Norse Myth. Lava and rivers of fire flow through the barren landscape.**

 **(5) Surtr- King of the Fire Giants in Norse Myth. Destined to kill the god Freyr with his sword during Ragnarok. His flames will devour and cover the world, burning away the Old World.**

 **(6) Eldjotnar- Name given to the inhabitants of Muspelheim. Otherwise called Fire Giants, led by Surtr.**

 **(7) Hel- Daughter of Loki, ruler of Helheim, where those who died of old age and sickness go after life. May assist Loki during Ragnarok by sending the spirits of the dead, though she does not appear to actively participate herself.**

 **(8) Trimurti- The Trinity of Supreme Divinity in Hinduism. Consists of Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva, who Create, Preserve, and Destroy/Change respectively.**


	7. So Falls the Sands of Time

**A/N: So here is Chapter 7. First, let me thank all those who Follow/Favorite/Review.**

 **Allow me to say that the polls for who Percy will be paired with are still active, and that will probably remain up for the next three chapters or so. In other words, the poll will remain for another month or two. I've received a few PM's asking for clarification on Thalia, so let me say that yes, Thalia is going to be with Percy. That was always going to happen from the very beginning of this story's conception. Tied for the lead in the polls are Hestia and Annabeth, followed by Athena. Not going to lie, if both Annabeth _and_ Athena end up getting voted for it's going to be tough to write that in a semi-realistic way. I mean, a mother and a daughter sharing a partner would surely cause some kind of problems right? Then again, anybody having to share their partner in order to keep said partner happy would cause problems. I mean this is fanfiction so suspension of disbelief is necessary, but I'll try my best to show that the girls aren't going to accept sharing Percy so easily. Also, something that surprised me is that I've gotten a few PM's that ask me to include Scathach as a love interest for Percy. I'm surprised that so far five people have asked for such, considering I never thought I would be able to write such a well-liked Non-Nanon Character. With those PM's and the reviews Scathach is actually at 6 votes currently. Just a little below Athena. **

_**Reviews:**_

 **Nebular Reaper- So far the poll indicates that Hestia will be one of the girls paired with Percy, so hopefully I can do that couple justice. I always thought that they would be good together since both have strong loyalty towards their family. Thanks for the review!**

 **sirGLOCKsalot- Thank you for your words! I hope this chapter can satisfy for the next little bit.**

 **Averyk- Haha, no don't worry I got your meaning the first time there. Concerning Percy's learning, I wanted to make it so that he wasn't a jack-of-all-trades kind of guy. I see many stories that have him gaining powers left and right from different sources, and I wanted to try something a bit different. Basically, this Percy only has two real "powers" as you will find out this chapter. This, however, does not mean that Percy is going to be weak. Hell, my plan was always to make him powerful, but he won't be curb-stomping everybody he comes across, especially since most of his enemies will be gods in this story. I have to agree with the Harry Potter cliche. Often people will use Gringotts as a "free level-up stage" where he learns he's heir to five different Ancient and Noble houses plus the heir of every founder of Hogwarts. Thanks for your thoughts and review!**

 **Justafan- I'm glad you caught and enjoyed my Nasuverse references! I had actually at first wanted to write a Fate/Stay NightxPercy Jackson crossover, but figured I should stick with one world for my first story. I didn't want to bite off explaining the way that mage craft works in the Nasuverse and how Shirou would be affected coming to the Percy Jackson world, where Alaya doesn't exist but Gaea does. It already makes me cross-eyed just thinking about how to explain magic circuits and magic cores versus demigod powers. Maybe in the future I'll be confident enough to do so, and bring over Shirou to trace thousands of Noble Phantasms to curb-stomp Ares, but for now, this will be my main focus story. And I always liked Thalia as well, she and Percy have very similar characteristics, but I also was a Percabeth fan, so I felt satisfied with how things played out in the end. Thanks for your reviews!**

 **A Anonymous Guy- Thanks for your insight. I agree that things were slow last chapter, with only a few things happening. If you could tell me more about what you wanted more from that would help me a lot in future chapters so I can still give people a good story while going through slow sections that some might be disappointed with. I wish that I could be the best writer on this site, but alas I am but a mere Engineering major and haven't taken any sort of English class for the past two years after English 102 in freshman year of university. So go ahead and PM or leave another review of what you wanted to see last chapter, and hopefully I can integrate some of those things for future reference. Thank you for the review by the way!**

 **spnaph- Ah! My most consistent reviewer and now my (perhaps) one-sided friend! Thanks for the review, and to answer the question of dark!Percy, I don't think he'll be exceptionally dark, but we'll catch glimpses of his suffering through his actions. He'll definitely be brutal, but he's survived through Ahriman's training, so that would be a given. Plus things went a bit differently in Tartarus in my story, which will be elaborated on later in the story. He didn't meet a few people that he did in canon *cough* Akhlys *cough* so _that_ part of his personality was never brought out by her betrayal and poison. That doesn't mean though that Angra Mainyu wasn't the one to help bring out a certain darkness in our favorite hero. As for the Kane Chronicles and it's crossovers, no I won't be adding those or Magnus Chase into the story. I actually only read The Red Pyramid from KC, so I don't have a good grasp on all of the lore that Uncle Rick created in his story. So the Kane siblings and Magnus Chase and Co. won't be making appearances in this story. Sorry if you wanted a crossover there, but I wouldn't feel comfortable writing something from memories of just the first book, and if I went through and read the trilogy of KC it would take up quite some time. Hope this doesn't disappoint too much. **

**Uh oh- Thanks for your kind words! Thalia is for sure going to be with Percy, as was the plan from the beginning!**

 **TheMasterTrident13- I agree that Thalia is probably exaggerated in her anger, but I always saw Thalia as a very passionate (read: hot-headed) individual in canon. I mean, she got so upset over a game of capture the flag in Titan's Curse that she accidentally lost control and electrocuted Percy pretty darn good. She also seemed the type to value family and friendship so much, since she had never really felt that up until she met Luke and Annabeth. I mean, she was debating whether or not to kill Luke on Mount Othrys because of his betrayal. This was the guy who helped her and Annabeth survive for so long while they were on the run. But I do think she mellowed out a bit after joining the Hunt, so there's always that to consider. Either way, you did guess correctly in that Thalia will be paired with Percy, and we can see that her grieving might hint at something deeper that she might not know or see quite yet. As for torturing Percy, I do agree that it's excessive. But then again he's under the care of All the World's Evil, so there is that. I've made out Angra Mainyu as a decent guy in my opinion while writing previous chapters. For this chapter, I felt the need to remind myself and the readers that he _is_ called The Weight of Humanity's Sins for a reason. Of course, that isn't to say he isn't pragmatic, and that he views those who serve beside him as completely expendable. Percy is necessary, though for what reason is still not revealed. You would be correct in assuming that Thalia would probably be the last thing that tethered Percy to his own sanity, but I wanted to show that Percy is just a little bit... broken... in the way his loyalty works. I've always found his fatal flaw full of potential, and I wanted to twist that a bit to show how it could be used against him, and at the same time how he could use it to his advantage. Anyway, thanks for your review once again!**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own or make any money off of this work of fanfiction. All rights for the characters in Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus go to Rick Riordan and all who were involved in the creation of the novels.**

* * *

7\. So Falls the Sands of Time

* * *

"No… a bit harder…"

"Like this?"

"Mmmmm, just a bit faster… yeah… just like that…"

"Really? This isn't too fast? I'm not hurting you?"

"I'm not a porcelain doll, Young Hero."

Percy sighed and nodded his head in assent. Oh, he knew that the woman beneath him was not a fragile piece of art that would break with a single touch. He had learned through sweat, blood, and occasional tears that Scáthach was resilient. The son of Poseidon, deciding to continue his rubbing, slowly working his fingers in soft circles. Scáthach let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh at Percy's ministrations.

With his hands still moving over her body, Percy asked, "So why has Mordred stayed behind his armor for so long? I don't think I've ever seen him without it on…"

"Thinking about that over-burdened knight while we're together doing this?" Scáthach asked, with a slightly amused tint to her voice. "My my, now that's something worth noting."

Percy sighed and let an accosted expression cross his face, "You wound me so. And here I am, relieving you of all that stress. You should be thanking me -no- begging me for more." He let out an overly dramatic sigh. "And to think I used to be called the 'Hero of Olympus'. People sang of my deeds, describing my heroic adventures through the years. I was praised like no other since the time of Achilles and Hector! Oh woe is me, woe is me!"

Upon hearing a few fake sobs come from the son of Poseidon, Scáthach began to laugh lightly, shaking her head. It took some effort, due to the position she was in, but she felt it completely justified. "Yes yes, I'm sure you're just _so_ torn up about how you are being _mistreated_ by the big bad God of Evil and his minions."

Percy could only snort with derision, "Minions? You guys definitely aren't minions. More like… top ranking lieutenants or optional bosses. But not the easy, first level optional boss… more like the end-game optional boss that fucks you up if you don't have the best equipment and a good handle on the more intricate mechanics of the game."

Scáthach sighed loudly, "You and your video games. I swear, some days you can be just as bad as Lü Bu."

"Hey! I take offense to that! I'm nowhere near as bad as that computer junkie!" Percy rebuked, his face aghast at the thought of being compared to the Chinese spearman.

"Hm, I suppose that's true. You should have seen what happened a few years ago when Ahriman decided to remodel the mansion. We didn't have the internet for a few days and Lü was quite frazzled. He looked awful, couldn't concentrate on the smallest thing. I stabbed him eighteen times in one thirty minute spar, that's how bad his withdrawal was," Scáthach said with a small shudder. Percy wasn't sure if her reaction was due to her rival spear user, or if it was due to the particular knot that he had just massaged out of her right calf. Deciding to chalk it up to a bit of both, Percy took his hands off of his mentor's legs and straightened up from his position next to her.

"Bathrobe please," Scáthach said, holding out her hand. Percy grabbed the garment from the sofa next to the large massage table that had been set up. Handing her the fluffy robe, Percy turned around as Scáthach swung her legs over the edge of the table and walked towards the bath that attached to her bedroom. Sighing, Percy wiped his hands of the lavender scented massage oil on the towel he had.

It had been over a year since he had been recruited into Ahriman's service, and during that time he could proudly say that he was a full-fledged massage therapist. That and a lethal swordsman once more, but he had to prioritize his skills by importance. For Percy, his self-preservation rested on his ability to give Scáthach relaxing and therapeutic massages, considering that even with his swordplay back up to snuff he still hadn't bested any of his mentors during his training. While infuriating, it was also incredibly humbling to be given one-on-one training sessions by some of the most dangerous individuals to ever have lived.

He doubted that anybody could say that they were being taught by several master warriors whose attentions were focused solely on improving his own fighting prowess. Then again, he also doubted that many people could claim that they were given the _immense privilege_ of being mind-raped by the Zoroastrian God of Evil every night for nearly five hundred nights. He supposed that his good karma and bad karma must have been about even. Still, he could have gone without the intrusive mind training that he so loathed.

' _Oh yes, that's definitely something to put down on my curriculum vitae. "Yes hello, I would like to apply for your position… Noteworthy achievements? Well my brain was raped by All the World's Evils for a while so that must count for something right?"'_ Percy shook his head at the morbid thoughts that plagued his mind. Images flashed in conjunction with his train of thought, causing him to reel back with a sneer as he gave his mental barriers a small boost in strength. He'd held the mental blocks in place for three months and counting. If he allowed them to fall, his mind would be assaulted by the visions of what Ahriman had subjected him to. One day he would find a way to pay Angra Mainyu back for the late night torture sessions.

Percy recalled his extensive sword training with Mordred and Muramasa, who both helped him learn how to wield his new weapon. After Muramasa had finished creating the blade, he had held onto it for some time, running a series of diagnostics, though he had never elaborated further. Percy had been annoyed that he had been practically weaponless for several weeks, but when the time came, Muramasa had finally come out of his underground forge and delivered the blade to its rightful wielder.

True to Muramasa's word, it had been five pounds, and it ran a length of thirty-six inches from tip to handle. The blade itself was thirty-one inches long, making it longer than Anaklusmos had been. The fuller of the blade ran about a third of the way up the blade, and shaved a good three ounces or so off of the total weight. The handle, wrapped in soft leather, was five inches long, technically making it something akin to a hand-and-a-half sword. There was no fancy decoration or coloration to the weapon since Muramasa had described it as "a sword made purely for spilling blood". Percy had shuddered at the old swordsmith's words then.

It was all well then that Percy had not desired anything too outlandish or garish when it came to his sword. It was silver in color, seeing as how the primary alloy used had been Titanium-Tungsten. The alloy had been strengthened and bonded through the use of virgin blood and the venom of the infamous Japanese dragon Yamata-No-Orochi, who had been slain by Susanoo in legend. Muramasa hadn't divulged how he had managed to procure such a rare liquid, and Percy was slightly worried that Susanoo would be able to sense the presence of his greatest foe within the blade should the two ever meet.

From there, the Heliotrope had been introduced into the process and had melded together with the enhanced alloy. Using fire fueled by Amesha Spenta, or the "Divine Sparks" of Zoroastrianism, the metal alloy and the Heliotrope mineral were combined. It was fortunate that Ahriman had agreed to use his own divinity to help create the Amesha Spenta, otherwise, the evil of Yamata-No-Orochi's venom and the purity of the virgin's blood would have caused the blade to be brittle and volatile when combined with the cursed blood that Percy had donated to the Heliotrope. With the Divine Sparks acting as a catalyst for fusion the blade had been successfully created, much to Muramasa's delight.

The sword had no name, and Percy was unsure whether to rectify that or to simply leave it as it were. He didn't particularly need a name for the weapon; especially considering that Muramasa himself had stated that it had no purpose other than slaughter. There were no extra or hidden talents that the sword carried, other than the extreme durability that Muramasa had proudly declared upon completion. That and the fact that it cut nearly everything it came into contact with. Even the slightest pressure on an object and the sword would cleave through whatever stood in its path. Hell, Percy could let it fall to the ground and the damn sword would hilt itself into stone floors. Ahriman had been quite upset when he saw the marble bathroom floor with a vertical hole in it.

Of course, the sharp edge was only debilitating when it came to mundane substances. If the object were mystical in some way, the blade would encounter more resistance. That, of course, included mystical or supernatural organisms as well, which Percy was glad for. He was sure that he would have lost a few limbs already had he not been cursed.

Training with the blade had shown Percy that his skill with Anaklusmos did not transfer well. He needed new stances, new riposte techniques, new parrying movements, and new swinging and thrusting motions. Basically, he needed to start from scratch when his swordplay was concerned.

It had been exceedingly frustrating to practice his basic movements once again as if he were still a wet-behind-the-ears first-year camper. Mordred had taken first dibs at breaking down what little self-confidence Percy had with a sword, just so the knight could build him back up from the roots. While Percy was… flattered… that the knight would take such extreme measures, the son of Poseidon was certain part of his interest was in seeing Percy fail miserably during their spars.

With the combination of Mordred being a swordsman with centuries of experience and Percy being new to using his weapon, there were lacerations aplenty each training session, with most of them being inflicted on the son of Poseidon. What was truly unfortunate though was that some of the damage wasn't even delivered by Mordred, but rather by Percy's own awkward swordsmanship. He had needed several months to understand how the length of his new sword would affect his fighting style, something which Mordred helped point out. Then it had taken a few more months to learn the basics of a new style that would benefit him in mastering his weapon.

When it was said and done, Percy had been labeled a prodigy of the sword by the Knight of Betrayal, who lauded him as the second coming of Lancelot du Lac. Apparently, the Black Knight had great respect for the former best friend of King Arthur Pendragon. It came as no big surprise however when considering that Mordred valued strength and skill on the battlefield above all else; both of which Lancelot du Lac had proven to carry in spades during his lifetime.

Percy had taken the compliment in stride and continued to work diligently in order to one day defeat Mordred. He hadn't gotten to that stage yet, and he would never get to that stage if he couldn't use the curse of power to its full potential. Mordred had the advantage of full control over the curse, to the point where he didn't waste any effort in activating or deactivating the curse. This allowed the Black Knight to use quick bursts of power in order to avoid taxing the body too much. In addition to Mordred's fine control, he simply could output more power that Percy could.

Intention and strength of will.

That's what Mordred repeated constantly to the former demigod, pounding it into his brain and body during training. Even though Percy understood the secret of mastering the curse, something held him back. It was ironic when Percy realized why he was holding back.

His own strength of will.

Percy never intended to become the strongest. Never craving power madly, so much so that he would sacrifice those dear to him. No, that was fundamentally against Percy's intentions and strength of will. To devote himself fully to the curse would be something that Percy might never do. When the former demigod had explained to Mordred that fully intending to gain power was against what Percy believed in, the Knight of Betrayal had only been able to laugh at the irony of the situation.

Even though Percy had great strength of will, he was focusing it in a way that would never allow him to gain the full benefits of the curse of power. Percy had seen how much the lust for power could corrupt a person. He had seen Luke and Ethan fight for the wrong side in order to gain the power to change the world. Perhaps they had good intentions, but they had become too lost in their own ambition that they couldn't see that they were being used, led to the slaughter like lamb to fuel the Titan war machine. Their quest for power had corrupted them to where their deaths were inevitable.

He couldn't accept that outcome for himself. As such, it appeared that he would never be able to attain the raw power that Mordred was able to put out.

"You look so serious." A voice broke Percy out of his mental musings. Scáthach stood in her sky-blue bathrobe, toweling her hair dry. The witch smiled at Percy, who only shrugged at her observation.

"Yeah, I was just thinking about my curse," the young man admitted running a hand through his raven locks. He leaned back in his seat as Scáthach made her way towards him.

"Care to share?" The magenta-haired woman asked, planting herself next to Percy on the sofa, crossing her legs. Small beads of water fell down her neck, trailing down to her collarbone, which was slightly exposed due to the bathrobe being slightly open.

Percy took a second to observe her before he looked at the far wall from where they sat. "I've come to realize that I probably will never utilize the curse of power to the same level as Mordred. Battle of conscience and all that good stuff. I already told Ahriman about that, and he seemed to accept it happily. It just…" Percy shuddered, "Nothing good ever comes from Ahriman being giddy. And that's what he was when I told him… downright giddy."

Scáthach gave him an amused smile and continued to dry her hair. Once she deemed her head acceptably dry, she set the towel down and clasped Percy's right hand with her left. She ran her thumb over his fingers and idly played with his digits. Finally, after some time, she grabbed his hand fully in hers and brought it up between their bodies.

Letting a grin cross her face, she broke the comfortable silence, "It's been nice knowing you then. He's probably planning something particularly gruesome in order to bring out your full potential. The sick bastard has some weird fetish when it comes to you… I think he might… you know…"

When Scáthach trailed off, Percy shook his head and smiled in exasperation, "Oh, Ha Ha, very funny. I doubt that Ahriman is gay for me. Hell, I doubt that twisted god has any sort of sexual attraction to anything. Last I checked he's never had sex with anything, not even like… an animal… or a plant. And trust me, you don't know how long I've wanted for him to get fucked up the ass by a cactus."

Scáthach laughed out loud at that, letting go of his hand to clutch her sides as she rocked on the sofa. Percy chuckled along with her until he too started to laugh deeply. Laughter echoed through the room for nearly a full minute before Scáthach could contain herself once again. As the duo came down from their small high, Scáthach wiped a small tear away from her eye and looked at Percy with a large grin.

"Oh my… you really don't like him do you?" Scáthach asked, still stifling a small laugh, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Percy gave his mentor a lopsided grin and sighed as his chuckles subsided. "I don't hate him… I don't like him… but I don't hate him. He's fine I suppose, though you're right when you say he has a weird fetish for my potential. Supposedly that's the reason he messes with my head whenever he gets the chance." Percy frowned as more sickening images made themselves clear to him. Suppressing the thoughts he turned his attention back to the woman next to him, only to find her looking at him worriedly.

"What's with that look?" the young man asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Scáthach observed him for a little while longer, before she put her hand on his cheek. She moved down, caressing his jawline as she went. Her thumb ran over his lips, and she moved his face further to the side as she continued to feel his face.

Percy, for his part, simply sat and allowed his mentor to do as she pleased. He could see the way her eyebrows scrunched and how her lips were pulled in tight line. She seemed to be clenching her jaw too if the minute tension in her neck was any indication.

"Will you be okay, Young Hero?" Scáthach asked, concern lacing her voice. She locked eyes with the Hero of Olympus before she pulled his head forward. She pressed her forehead against his own and stared at him with intensity.

Percy for his part looked away from the vivid scarlet eyes that held so much power. He pulled his head back a little but found that Scáthach wasn't willing to let him go quite so quickly. She wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and moved his head back towards hers once again. Her lips brushed the lobe of his ear before she pulled back a bit.

"You can be weak in front of me, Young Hero. There's no need for you to carry such a burden on your shoulders when we are alone," Scáthach whispered. The warmth of her breath against Percy's ear and neck caused the once-demigod to let loose a small shiver. "If something bothers you, don't hesitate to talk to me. I know what he does to you is cruel. I wish it hadn't come to that point either, but he believes that you must suffer that pain for you to grow."

Percy felt his mental barriers begin to crack as he recalled the most recent training session with Ahriman. His face twitched as the horrors that he had watched replayed in his mind. Bile rose steadily, but he quashed the feeling of nausea. With unsteady hands, Percy placed his arms around Scáthach's body. Soon, he felt her own arms wrap around him in a very tentative embrace. Glad that she wasn't prodding for more, Percy let his barrier fall, finally letting his mind rest after having held the protection there for nearly three months.

As soon as the blocks fell, he let out a choked gasp at the visions that assailed him. He heard the screams of those he failed to protect, the vindictive insults that were tossed at him from those that he abandoned, the agonized wails of those he had watched die in front of him. He could feel their hatred towards him, how they blamed him for their own suffering. In the end, they were all justified in their actions and words.

His mind grew hazy as his brain strained against the onslaught of information. Rapidly feeling his head beat with pain, Percy grit his teeth and buried his face into Scáthach's shoulder as he fought against what he deserved.

"No… you don't deserve that, Young Hero," Scáthach said softly. She ran her hand through his hair, massaging his scalp.

Had he said that out loud?

"Hm, it seems that you can't discern between your thoughts and your actions. Yes, you did say that out loud," Scáthach replied.

Deciding that he'd had enough, the son of Poseidon slammed his mental barriers into place once more, blocking out the constant stream of pain. He visibly relaxed when the screams and images stopped penetrating his mind. Letting his hands drop to the side, Percy felt exhaustion set in. With the pain subsiding, Percy closed his eyes.

Scáthach gently set Percy on his back and held his head in her lap. She slowly stroked his hair. With his mind slowly fading to black, Percy could vaguely hear the last things that Scáthach said.

"Be strong Perseus, for I fear your pain will only grow worse as time passes."

' _What a pleasant thing to hear while I'm passing out.'_ Percy mused before he felt no more.

* * *

Percy walked into the meeting room of the mansion. The only other occupant of the room was seated by himself at a table. Percy walked through the large room, passing by the furniture, his steps growing slower as he approached the God of Evil.

Ahriman looked up from his book before marking the page where he had stopped. Setting the object aside, he gestured for Percy to have a seat across from him. Inclining his head, the son of Poseidon took the proffered seat and leaned forward, steepling his fingers.

"You wanted to see me," Percy asked, though he made the question sound like a statement. He looked around the room, his eyes noting that the only thing of interest was the burning fireplace. The firewood crackled, alleviating the odd tension that filled the air.

Ahriman nodded with a smile gracing his lips. The white-haired god waved his hand in front of him, and from the red mist that enveloped the table appeared a bottle of Chivas Regal scotch and two whiskey glasses. Percy raised an eyebrow at seeing the amber liquid and turned his confusion towards Ahriman, who was opening the bottle.

"Chivas Regal, aged for eighteen years. Not very expensive, but it's pretty damn good stuff." The God of Evil said as he began to pour the alcohol into the glasses that he had summoned. Filling each glass just under halfway, the god slid one of the glasses toward Percy from across the table. The son of Poseidon deftly stopped the glass before it fell off the edge of the table, and stared at the liquid intently.

"What is this exactly?" The former demigod questioned, swishing the alcohol around the glass as he continued to eye it cautiously. He'd seen Gabe, his stepfather, drink alcohol quite often. His mother would often warn Percy not to drink too much, and he had always taken her word to heart. He'd only tried alcohol before once, and it had proved to be too much for him. Percy had been quick to gag on the cheap vodka that he had taken a sip of, and from then on he hadn't tried a second sip.

"It's scotch," Ahriman responded flippantly. Taking a drink from his glass, the god frowned before snapping his fingers. A ball of ice appeared inside of his glass, sitting neatly in the center of the scotch.

Percy was about to deny partaking in the drink, but Ahriman plopped a ball of ice into his glass as well. "Trust me, it's not bad. Might burn a bit, and since you don't have experience with this it might not be great, but just give it a shot."

Sighing, the young man took one last dubious look at the glass and its contents, before shrugging to himself and taking a sip. Scrunching his face, he let the liquor linger in his mouth for a few seconds, debating whether to spit it out or not, before he let it slide back across his tongue and back to his throat. Feeling the burning sensation light up his mouth, Percy blinked a few times, clearing his mind from the heady feeling he experienced. Shuddering a bit, he looked at Ahriman, who was grinning at his reaction.

"Well?" Ahriman prodded, "How was it? Not too bad right?"

"Uh huh, right, whatever you say," Percy replied without interest. He glanced at the glass before he took another sip. "What did you want to see me for?" The young man asked, deciding to uncover the reason behind the impromptu meeting. True enough, Angra Mainyu was always unpredictable, so when the Hero of Olympus had been woken from his sleep by Scáthach with a message from the evil deity there had been little in the way of surprise.

Ahriman for his part downed the rest of his drink before pouring more of the amber alcohol into his glass. After taking another sip the God of Evil sighed as he crossed his legs and leaned back into his chair. "I wanted to discuss some things regarding your training. Things that involve the curse," Ahriman stated.

Percy nodded and asked, "What do you want to know?"

Shrugging his shoulders the god rolled his hand a few times as he pondered the question. "Perhaps you can tell me how progress is coming in mastering the curse? Mordred is impressed by your swordsmanship but says that you haven't been able to dedicate yourself fully to the curse. Care to talk about it?"

Scoffing slightly, the son of Poseidon downed his drink, coughing and gagging on the liquor. Patting his chest several times, Percy, through slightly watery eyes responded, "Well, all I can tell you is that I don't really want to devote my full being in order to gain power. I've seen people lose themselves during their quest for power. Just because somebody has good intentions doesn't mean that they can't fall under the spell of lust that power seemingly traps everybody in."

Ahriman grinned widely at hearing what Percy had to say. "Such a wise man at such a young age. Who told you that?"

Percy could only level a deadpan gaze at the God of Evil. "I'm not a complete idiot you know? I can learn things from experience. Luke, Ethan, Gaea… Zeus…"

For his part Angra Mainyu only nodded his head, the grin having never left his face, though it devolved into a smirk. Taking Percy's glass and refilling it, the god slid Percy his drink and summoned a notebook from the dark red mist. Flipping through various pages, the deity stopped on a specific page with a variety of scribbles that seemed completely unintelligible. Spinning the journal around he tossed it to Percy.

"What's this?" the young man asked as he drank from his glass while perusing the journal. Running his eyes over the page that Ahriman had stopped on, Percy squinted as he tried to read the text that had been scribbled down. Even though he had lost his dyslexia and ADHD when he was stripped of his divinity, he could not read what was written. Though that could be attributed mainly to the fact that it wasn't the English language.

"I can't read this I hope you know that," the former demigod said with exasperation as he slid the notebook away from his body.

"It's called cuneiform, one of the oldest known methods of human written word. Tell me what you see, the shapes." Ahriman prodded with a nod to the journal.

Percy arched his eyebrow but obliged nonetheless. He began to list the various lines and forms of arrows that lined the pages. "Sideways arrow, downward arrow, up arrow, two arrows crossed up, an arrow crossed in a 'T' shape and another pointing up…"

The listing went on for several minutes as Percy became increasingly annoyed at simply listing the directions of arrows. He was so engrossed in his reading that when he felt a pressure on his shoulder he nearly jumped out of his seat. He would have done just that too, had Angra Mainyu not held his shoulder in a vice-like grip. Before the son of Poseidon could react, Ahriman slammed the palm of his hand into Percy's upper back, forcing the young man onto the table.

"Hey, yo, what the fuck!?"

"Calm down Percy," Angra Mainyu said as he held tight, keeping his victim face-down on the table. "You really know how to throw a wrench into an immortal's plans, don't you? The Titans', Gaea's, the Olympians', and now my own. If you refuse to commit yourself to power, then you will have to commit yourself to something else. Of course, you have a choice. You must accept the curse, otherwise, I can't pass it onto you. Not something like this."

Percy tried to wriggle his way out of the God of Evil's formidable grip, but couldn't move very much. He entertained the idea of using his curse of power in order to break free, but once the meaning of Ahriman's words sank in the raven-haired man stopped struggling.

"You want to give me another curse?" Percy asked through grit teeth.

"In a way, yes."

Percy hesitated, taking care not to jump the gun with an affirmative or negative comment. It was clear to him that power was something he still lacked, and that he would never be able to kill a god at the level of strength he held at that moment. He needed more, but he was unwilling to become enamored with the feeling of becoming the most powerful that he could be. That would more than likely lead to him losing himself while on the long path to gaining power.

"What kind of curse are we talking about here?" The son of Poseidon asked warily. He adjusted himself a bit so that he was in a less uncomfortable position. His face was still planted on the table, though now he could breathe a bit easier, and his arms weren't being crushed against the edge.

"Ah… well, that would be telling now wouldn't it?" Ahriman asked rhetorically, and Percy could practically _feel_ the God of Evil smirking at him.

"That's the point you ass," Percy responded with a threatening tone. He tried to struggle some more, only to be greeted by Angra Mainyu's arm pressing harder against him.

Ahriman chuckled from behind him. "I know. Let me just say that when you came to me regarding the curse of power… I was honestly not surprised. In fact, it let me realize that you were never meant to carry that specific curse. After some time thinking I now understand exactly what you need, Percy. You don't strive to gain all the power you possibly can. You aren't selfish enough. Or in a way you're too selfish."

"Wha-" Percy started but he was abruptly cut off.

"-I'm going to take the curse of power from you, and I'm going to give you a different curse. The curse of sacrifice. The more pain you are in, the stronger you become. Pure, unadulterated, raw, primal… strength. Psychological and physical pain will both grant you power. To compliment this… I'm going to try and do something that might kill you. Bear with me, though, I've never done this before. I'm going to place another major curse on you, so you'll have two active on you at all times." Ahriman said, though his voice sounded uncertain. Unfortunately, Percy caught the irresolute tone and promptly voiced his complaints.

"Woah-woah-woah there buckaroo! You can't just go using me as a guinea pig for your crazy experiments!" Percy shouted, beginning to resist his captor's grasp with more ferocity.

" _Technically_ I can actually. But don't worry, I'm pretty sure you won't die," Ahriman muttered. "Now will you accept the two curses? I think you'll find these more suited to your personality."

"Fuck you! You never even told me what the other curse was you sociopath!"

"Hurtful words! But you're right, I never did say anything about the other curse. Very well, I'll be giving you the curse of vitality in conjunction with the curse of sacrifice. You see, the curse of vitality will allow you to heal most major injuries to your person. Of course, this is limited to physical wounds, so you can't rely on this to help your mind. But, as with all curses, there's a drawback."

"...Just tell me what it is already." Percy said with a sigh of defeat.

Ahriman was silent for a moment, seemingly considering the proper wording for what he wanted to say. "Well, you'll be put through incredible physical pain whenever you heal yourself. It'll be like the pain of the normal healing process was merged into the small timeframe that it actually took to heal. It'll be pretty bad. Worse than the pain you feel when I heal you. I hope you can see how this will benefit you in the bigger picture," the deity said condescendingly.

Percy snorted, even as his arms were going numb from the loss of blood circulation. "Yes, I can see it very clearly. As long as I use the curse of sacrifice in union with the curse of vitality I can practically become a living juggernaut and just fuel my power through the pain of whatever damage I receive in battle."

"Exactly my young protege! Just imagine the kind of havoc you can wreak on those who oppose us! Can you see it? Can you see them as they grovel beneath us, begging for their lives and the lives of their loved ones? Our goals will certainly come to fruition," Angra Mainyu said, and Percy was certain he had a predatory grin on his face.

"You're insane," Percy responded with conviction.

"Perhaps," the god retorted without remorse. "Well? Do you want to exchange curses? It'll be more painful for you, but you'll become more powerful because of it. You can probably keep those you want safe with this power to."

Percy considered his choices. On one hand, he knew that the curse of power was simply not compatible with his morals and intentions. Perhaps he would be able to do better with the other curses. The only problem was that he needed to be in pain to gain power from the other curse, and one of those provided extreme amounts of it. Being healed by Ahriman was bad enough, but for something to surpass that in terms of pain… that was something that Percy would normally avoid like the plague.

After mulling over his options, Percy realized there was only one thing he really could say. Ahriman had backed him into a corner of conviction and had played on his desires to protect expertly. He had been manipulated so well that he hadn't even noticed until the very end.

"You… you've been doing this for a long time haven't you?" Percy asked.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Angra Mainyu said cheerfully.

"Sure, whatever. I'll take your two other curses. Mark my words, though, if you hurt somebody that I care about, I won't think twice about destroying you." Percy said bitterly.

"If only you understood the bigger picture, Percy. One day you'll see the world for what it really is. I can't wait to watch as the truth crushes all of your ridiculous morals and delusions of grandeur." Ahriman responded with a tone that belied the morbid subject. "Very well, let's start then shall we? I should warn you, though, this is going to hurt a bit."

Percy only rolled his eyes at the god's attempt at intimidation before the searing pain hit him.

* * *

Percy sat on the sofa of the meeting room across from Mordred. The Black Knight stared with intensity at Percy, or at least that was the feeling that Percy gathered. The Knight of Betrayal growled a little, causing Percy to sweat a little as he heard the menacing, metallic sound. The son of Poseidon felt cold sweat run down his chin and down his neck as Mordred moved his hand forward. Wondering if he had offended the dangerous knight, the former demigod ran through escape options in his mind.

After having spent three years in Purgatory, Percy already knew the knight could probably catch up to him in a straight foot race, meaning that the door was not an option seeing as how it was clear across the large room. The vents were also not possible to escape out of. Percy was quite sure that he would never be able to fit in the small spaces before Mordred bisected him with his greatsword. The final option would be the windows. The glass wasn't thick enough to withstand a powerful blow from any who lived in the mansion, though it was strong enough to withstand the harsh winds from the persistent storm of Purgatory.

' _Window it is then.'_ Percy thought as he prepared to bolt. He would need to time it just right in order to surprise Mordred enough to gain a slight head start. If he moved at the exact moment that Mordred grabbed at him, the knight would certainly lose his balance and fall forward. While Mordred was stunned, Percy could make it through the window and out into the storm. After waiting for a few hours Percy would return to the mansion, hopefully finding a calm and collected Knight of Betrayal. Then he could ask what he had done wrong and see if he could fix whatever that was.

' _It's the perfect plan.'_

Just as Percy was about to enact his master plan, Mordred's hand stopped moving toward the son of Poseidon, and instead went back down to the table between the two. Picking up the last card the Percy had set down, Mordred stared hard at the +4 wild card from the UNO deck. The tension in the air was palpable and nearly suffocating as Percy started to stand up. Before he could make his way to the window, Mordred's voice stopped him cold.

"Dost thou truly value our relationship as a tiger would value crumbs of bread? This knight had been under the delusion that betwixt us breathed the life of friendship. This knight… nay… this sinner was played the fool. Thou art little more than a pismire." Mordred said spitefully, turning his head away from Percy. The knight crushed the card in his hand, causing Percy to gulp in fear of the Black Knight's wrath.

Percy held his hands up in front of his body to placate the angry knight. "N-now Mordred, l-l-let's just calm down a little," the young man pleaded.

"Calm? Thou wishes for this knight to become calm? Boy… I will kill you for this betrayal…" Mordred stated coldly.

"It's just a game!" Percy nearly shouted in terror.

"A… game? Thou would take this test of skill and twist it to become a simple child's game!?" Mordred bellowed, his metallic voice echoing off of the walls.

"It _is_ a child's game!" Percy cried out. "Come on Mordred, you're a cool guy… calm down man!"

At that, Mordred paused. Tilting his head, the Black Knight then started laughing raucously. Percy stared at the knight for some time, wondering what had happened to cause the knight to lose his normally calm demeanor. The knight continued to laugh, almost falling to the floor in the process. After righting himself, the knight shook his head at Percy as his metallic chuckles filled the room.

"Incredible," Mordred said softly. "This knight is surprised that the facade has been kept for until this point. Surely, one of the other tenants would have let slip what this knight hides. For three years thou hast been fooled."

Before Percy could ask, Mordred went through some clamps at the base of his neck. Unclasping the buckles, the Knight of Betrayal pulled off the black armet that covered his head. Percy stared at the image in front of him for a few seconds, before he reeled back as if he had been struck.

"You're a woman!?" The young man asked in shock. He held his head between his hands and watched as the young woman slowly removed the rest of her armor, placing each piece down on the sofa as she went. It took some time, in which Percy managed to shake himself of his daze enough to regain his normal cognitive processes, but when she was done Mordred sat on the sofa clad in a wool aketon and what looked to be linen trousers. Appearing to be around the age of twenty-five, the Knight of Betrayal was a sight that Percy was sure he wouldn't soon forget.

Mordred moved some of the golden hair from her face, pushing it behind her ears. Her bright emerald eyes seemed to glimmer with mischief as she looked at Percy's flabbergasted face. She had high, slightly pronounced cheekbones, and a fair complexion. A scar, thin and white, ran above her left eyebrow for a few inches before it stopped just shy of the middle of her forehead. Another, deeper and more pronounced scar ran from her chin down to her neck, where it disappeared underneath the collar of her aketon. Mordred's golden blonde hair was pulled back and braided on the sides, which fell back into a soft tangled bun, allowing for her hair to be placed inside of her armet with little trouble. Her nose was fairly small and straight, with no discernable upturn or crook. The knight's jaw was strong, with a defined line showing on the sides, which quickly turned inwards, creating an inverted triangle shape for Mordred's face.

Percy had to actively stop himself from licking his lips at seeing the beautiful face of the knight that he had once thought to be a man. At hearing Mordred clear her throat, Percy stopped his eyes from wandering to the smaller nuances of her face and looked at her sparkling green eyes. Though her lips held a neutral line, Mordred's eyes seemed to relay her slight amusement at seeing his reaction to her reveal.

"Dost thou find this knight's appearance acceptable?" the Knight of Betrayal asked in a smooth voice. Her voice was far different from the metallic and groaning sound that normally came from her mouth. Percy assumed that her helmet must have changed her voice in some way, though he was unsure of why that was the case.

Nodding his head the son of Poseidon agreed with Mordred's inquiry. Reaching out to the glass of whiskey that sat on the table and downing the drink in one swift movement, Percy fell back in his chair heavily. Swallowing the saliva that had gathered in his mouth the raven-haired man decided to ask the question that was on the forefront of his mind. "Why did you hide what you look like?" He asked, glad that his voice came to him and sounded normal.

Mordred looked at him as if he were an idiot before she answered, "During the age that this knight served, a woman was seen as subpar to a man when combat was involved. Certes, this knight mayhap would not have been granted knighthood had the others known of what was lacked between the legs."

Percy scratched his head sheepishly. "Yeah, I mean I know that… but why keep up the disguise? These days women have far more rights than before."

The young woman only shook her head and sighed. "'Tis not a disguise. This knight takes pride in the black armor that brings about recognition. Forsooth, the armor that this knight brandished in the age long past was not black. Nor was the armor made of such sturdy material. Nay, that age saw this knight wearing simple chain over leather and wool, with a helm that did not protect the face."

Frowning, Percy rubbed his chin with one hand. "If that's true, then how did you hide your identity from the other Knights of the Round? More importantly, how did you hide from your fa-"

"That fool was no father!" Mordred hissed venomously, her fist clenched in anger. Percy looked at the young woman sadly as he saw the way her face twisted at the mention of her former king. He wasn't sure of what happened in her past to make her want to kill her biological father, but he didn't want to pry into something that could very well result in her turning her anger on him.

"Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to bring up anything painful," Percy said softly, hoping to placate Mordred.

For her part, the Knight of Betrayal let out a deep sigh through her nose and relaxed into the sofa slightly. She let herself sink into the plush material, and she kicked up her feet onto the table between herself and Percy. The sabatons that were still on her legs clanged noisily on the tabletop, and Mordred crossed her arms behind her head.

"So… you're a girl huh? That was… completely unexpected," Percy admitted as he glanced over to his mentor.

"May this knight inquire as to why?"

Percy shrugged as he too relaxed into his own chair, glad that he hadn't needed to activate his genius escape plan. "All the legends pegged you as a man. Then you never really corrected me in my own thinking and nobody used any pronouns when talking about you. I always found that odd, since for three years people around here always referred to you as 'that knight' or something like that. On top of that, your voice is really deep with the helmet on."

Mordred let out a chuckle at that. "Long ago, the witch Morgana aided Morgause, this knight's mother, in casting a complex series of magicks upon this knight herself. This knight was enchanted to appear slightly more masculine to all those who gazed. 'Twas a shame that this aid came at the cost of slaying Arthur Pendragon for Morgana's gain. The mighty king was learned of this plot, and slew Morgause, in the belief that she was the one to concoct such a scheme. Belike under the delusion of safety, Arthur set out to war against Rome, in doing so leaving this knight on his throne. In a quest for vengeance, this knight gained the aid of Angra Mainyu, the curse of power. The sword Clarent was pilfered from the vaults and used to battle against King Arthur, and this knight was fatally wounded by the king, whilst delivering a mortal wound in exchange."

Mordred absently traced the scar that trailed from her chin down to her neck. She ran her delicate fingers over the grotesque line that never healed properly. Percy was staring at the woman intently as she basically told a barebones version of her life story to him.

"Do you regret doing what you did? You sound a bit remorseful," Percy observed, keeping his voice gentle so as to not sound confrontational. He didn't want to sound as if he were judging what the knight had done; he knew that he had no right to do so.

With tightly pressed lips and narrowed eyes, Mordred responded to Percy's inquiry. "This knight feels remorse for felling a once great kingdom. No regret is pushed towards the slaying of King Arthur Pendragon, however. Certes, that man's time had come, and this knight is proud of bringing about necessary change. 'Twas unfortunate then, Camelot fell."

"That's understandable," Percy replied with a nod. "You were loyal to your kingdom and what it stood for, just not your king. Did you have a plan for your reign then?"

At that, Mordred seemed to stop and think. With a sheepish chuckle, the Knight of Betrayal locked her eyes on the table in front of her. "Admittedly, this knight did not. All attentions were focused on defeating the king. Thou need not say more. This sinner realizes that mistakes were made."

The duo sat in silence for a while after Mordred's admittance. Percy stole glances at the beautiful Black Knight and wondered why she fought beside Angra Mainyu. Her motives, just like Scáthach's, were completely unknown to the son of Poseidon. On more than one occasion had the former demigod found that his thoughts would linger on his two foremost mentors. Scáthach had been a mystery from day one, seeing as how she constantly butted heads with the God of Evil, and how she seemed to focus most of her attentions on Percy himself. In contrast, Mordred seemed content to follow Angra Mainyu's orders, having never disagreed with whatever the deity had said or asked of her. But Percy could tell that there was something festering beneath the surface, though he wasn't sure exactly what it was. She never commented on how she felt bound to Ahriman in any way, or that her loyalty was with him. She seemingly followed him on a whim, something that Percy found hard to believe.

"Isn't it uncomfortable to wear that heavy armor all the time?" Percy decided to ask.

Mordred seemed amused by the question but answered him nonetheless. "At times it can become cumbersome, though this knight has nary a doubt that wearing the armor intimidates others. It is enjoyable to watch others interact with this knight when encased in steel."

Percy could only shake his head slightly at Mordred's explanation. "So that's how you get your entertainment?"

"On occasion, aye."

"You're an odd one. For all your gesturing and stoic behavior, when you take the armor off… it's almost like you're a completely different person." Percy noted, intently eyeing the Knight of Betrayal to see her reaction.

"Forsooth, this knight finds odd comfort when the two of us interact. Thou art skilled in matters of human companionship, when one considers that even the witch has taken to you. Certes, this knight finds no comfort in such a skill. Thou can easily lower the guard of even the most veteran warriors, and this is disconcerting." Mordred admitted.

Percy looked at her with a tinge of surprise visible on his face. He furrowed his brow in confusion as he mulled her words over in his mind. The son of Poseidon was taken aback that she had admitted to being comfortable around him. Add that she felt uncomfortable _because_ of her comfort, and Percy was thoroughly confused.

"So, you feel comfortable around me, but at the same time you don't?" Percy deduced, scratching his chin. "Sorry but I'm not getting it."

"This knight feels that anything that can cause guard loss is a potential threat. Thou would make a formidable assassin with the uncanny ability that has been bestowed upon thee," Mordred said stoically, though she did avert her eyes in slight embarrassment. "This knight had been trained against such comfort around others from yonder time. Thou must forgive old habits."

Percy absentmindedly nodded his head as he examined her words. True enough, he realized how she would feel distressed if she were to drop her guard around him every time they spoke. He would have the advantage of surprise if a fight started, or if he were plotting her death beforehand. The few precious moments that it took for him to quick-draw his weapon would go a long way in striking a killing blow against the Knight of Betrayal. It was obvious that Mordred had been ingrained with the philosophy of never being caught flat-footed in any situation, and to always have her mind ready to fight against an assassination attempt.

Returning his eyes to his companion, the young man stared at her for a few moments. "Speaking of old habits," the son of Poseidon started. "Why do you talk in that speech pattern? I knew another person who spoke with that archaic English tint, but I never figured out why. Same goes for you."

"This knight knows a variety of languages, and this particular pattern came from a combination of Contemporary English and Early Modern English. After having indulged in some of this age's entertainment, this knight came to realize that many attribute this speech pattern as for when the English Monarchy held the most power. Dost thou not believe that this way of speech is reminiscent of greater times for the Isles? Not many know these days of the glory that once was Camelot." Mordred responded carefully. She seemed to skirt around the question, but Percy had already caught onto what she was implying.

"You want to emulate the pattern of speech that was popular when England was strong?"

With a curt nod, Mordred said, "Aye, 'tis as thou says."

"But you can easily change to Contemporary English if you wanted?" Percy asked once again.

"Well yeah. Infiltration missions and all that jazz." The knight responded without missing a beat.

With a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, Percy only rubbed the bridge of his nose softly. "Troublesome teammates. I swear all of you are mental on some level."

"Thou art one to speak. Thy adamant stance on saving those you care for above personal safety is disturbing. Additionally, thou seem to be under the impression that the need of the few outweighs the need of the many." Mordred retorted calmly.

"If they were my friends or family… then yes… their needs outweigh that of even thousands of other people." Percy stated with a stony expression.

Mordred observed him intensely before she let out a chuckle and shook her head. "That's pretty fucked up."

* * *

Percy shifted in his seat as he drank from the glass of Armagnac that rested in front of him. Savoring in the very slight burn that the brandy produced in his mouth and the heady feeling that chased it, the son of Poseidon scanned the rest of the chairs that were occupied. The former demigod sat at the far end of an oval table used for "team meetings" as Angra Mainyu liked to label them.

Mordred sat to his immediate left, clad in her black armor that she insisted on always wearing. Due to having her armet on, the Knight of Betrayal was ignoring the cup of chocolate milk in front of her, even though it was well known to be her favorite drink. The knight had her broadsword, Clarent, leaning on the back of her chair. The sword itself was nearly five feet in length, with the blade itself being fifty-two inches. The weapon glittered in the mellow orange lights that bathed the room from the dangling chandeliers. Running the length of the blade were a series of Fae runes, which Mordred had said she couldn't explain to him, lest he wanted his mind to burn due to the enchantments that the old creators had placed. Just like with Excalibur, the Fae race had also helped create Clarent. There were many accounts of Clarent being the same sword as Excalibur, however, Mordred had explained that Clarent was the "sword in the stone" and that Excalibur was the sword gifted by the Lady of the Lake. It had been with Clarent that Mordred had dealt the fatal wound to King Arthur, which could only be described as irony in Percy's opinion.

Sitting to his right was Muramasa, who was leaning on one hand while he stared at the far wall. His hair looked slightly disheveled, and his shirt was on backward, indicating that he had more than likely been called during his mid-afternoon nap. It was expected that the old swordsmith would look dead-tired, considering that he often worked through the nights and well into the wee hours of daybreak. Percy didn't know exactly what Muramasa did in his workshop, but for some reason, he couldn't help but shake the "mad scientist" vibe that emanated from Muramasa on a daily basis.

Next to Muramasa was Genghis Khan, otherwise known as Temujin to those he felt worthy of saying his real name. The man was of a somewhat stocky build, though he stood at around five-foot-eight inches. His face was strong, with dark-brown eyes and short brown hair. The conqueror wore blue jeans and a long-sleeve blue v-neck. Luckily, it wasn't too difficult to earn worth in Temujin's eyes. All Percy had done was agree that the Mongol Empire was the greatest land empire that the world had yet to see, and the Mongolian conqueror had immediately given him the right of calling him "Uncle Tem". Percy had found enjoyment in listening to the stories that Temujin often told of old adventures, though he sorely wished the man would leave out some of the more gruesome details of the mass slaughters that he partook in. Genghis had also attempted to teach Percy archery, despite the former demigod's protests against wasting his time. Despite the adamant refusal, Temujin wouldn't take no for an answer. Not thirty minutes later did the Mongol declare Percy to never be allowed near a bow again. It was disappointing that he was still terrible with a bow after all that had happened.

Seated across from Temujin and next to Mordred was the Chinese spearman, Lü Bu. The man normally stood at an impressive six foot five inches, though more often than not he would be found hunched over his laptop or in front of the large flat-screen television in the recreation room. Percy's first impression of Lü Bu was that the spearman was a shut-in, who had an unhealthy fixation on video games. Truthfully, Percy had never changed that impression, but simply added to it. As it stood, Lü Bu was a very dangerous individual when handling a spear, who also happened to have an addiction problem. It was odd to say the least, that a man who had betrayed most of his former masters during the Eastern Han Dynasty would be so easily tied down by the latest games and technology of the new century.

At the other end of the table sat Scáthach, twirling a strand of her magenta hair with one hand. She was taking a long sip of her orange juice, which she preferred to alcohol. The long bendy straw in her glass met her lips, and Percy felt himself watching her intently. He saw the way her throat moved as she swallowed the juice, letting it fall through her esophagus. Her scarlet eyes found his sea-green, and her mouth detached from the straw to form a small smirk when she noticed his attention. She ran her tongue over her lips slowly as she licked away any juice that may have remained. Percy rolled his eyes and refilled his glass of brandy. He cursed Ahriman for starting him on alcohol, but couldn't find it in himself to blame the God of Evil for hooking him on the vice.

He was no alcoholic and had no dependency on the mind-numbing liquid that pleasantly distracted him from the occasional flash of blood in his mind. In fact, when inebriated, he often found that the images of his "training" with Angra Mainyu would come more frequently. It was obvious then, that alcohol greatly reduced the effectiveness of his sturdy mental shields that he had taken many painstaking years to craft. Thankfully the alcohol ceased the guilt and pain that usually accompanied the visions and sounds. The normally sharp stabbing was reduced to a soft hum in the back of his mind when under the influence, which was just one positive he supposed. Still, he wasn't deluding himself that he _needed_ alcohol in order to escape from his problems and handle them in some way. No, he could handle them fine while sober. Alcohol was just something that he partook in because it pleased him for whatever reason. Thankfully he could negate the damage done to his system with the curse of vitality; though it came at the cost of a massive headache and gut-wrenching pain. Sometimes he preferred the hangover anyway.

Finally, the god who had called them all strode into the room. Stopping behind Scáthach, the god conjured a projector in the middle of the table. Scáthach turned herself so that she could see whatever presentation was about to happen, and all the others perked up slightly at the change in pace. Percy too, leaned forward in his chair a bit, knowing what the meeting was called for to begin with. After five long years in Purgatory, things were going to change.

"Right, I'm going to get down to it," Ahriman said stoically, his eyes roving over the table to each of those assembled. "My brother made his move. A few hours ago, Genghis came back from Earth with some troubling news."

With a wave of his hand, the projector started up, displaying an image of the world map on the far wall. There were four dots in bright red marked clearly on the map, each in a fair distance away from one another.

"These markings in red," Ahriman pointed out each one for the group, "Are where gateways to the Land of the Dead are being produced. Most of these gateways are being built on sacred grounds of the religious groups there, meaning we have serious problems if those gates are completed. We can see here that construction is underway in Mexico, Scotland, Iraq, and Cambodia."

"How is he making these gateways in the first place? Is he in four different places at once?" Muramasa asked, studying the map intently.

Nodding his head Angra Mainyu addressed the concern. "Spenta Mainyu is more than likely at the site in Iraq. There's a gateway being constructed directly on the ruins of Babylon, and since both he and I are tied closely to Persian lands, that's where I believe he is. I'll be going there personally for a short meet-and-greet with my younger brother."

"And what about the other locations then? He wouldn't just leave them undefended right?" Percy spoke up, narrowing his eyes at the map. He wasn't sure why the locations had been chosen where they were, but he had a feeling that it was part of a larger plan.

"No, he wouldn't. It's unclear who exactly is defending these areas, but I fear that they are being guarded closely. The exact locations for each are the Mayan ruins of Calakmul in Campeche, Mexico. Next is Castle Dún Scáith, on the Isle of Skye in Scotland. Finally, there's the Hindu-turned-Buddhist construct Angkor Wat in Cambodia. As you can tell these locations were chosen for a specific reason." Angra Mainyu paused as he looked over the assembled fighters. "Each holds a significant amount of divine importance for one reason or another. Be prepared for high-levels of ethereal energy when you reach your assigned areas, and make sure not to get caught off guard by any combatants that may be there."

At the group's collective nod Ahriman gave them all a wry smile. "This is the start of war. Spenta Mainyu has chosen the path to self-destruction, and I'm more than happy to oblige him in that regard. Assignments are as follows: Mordred and Muramasa are going to Mexico to deal with the gate at Calakmul. Percy and Scáthach will be sent into Scotland to deal with Dún Scáith. Lü Bu and Genghis Khan, you two will scope out the situation in Angkor Wat and see if the Hindus are already dealing with the gateway. If they are, reveal yourselves as my emissaries. Eventually, this group is going to join in with the other pantheons helping with what we can. So far it's been confirmed that Apophis and Surtr are working with Spenta Mainyu, meaning that my brother has made himself an enemy of both the Norse and the Egyptians. By extension, this means that the Olympians and the Hindus will fight against him. If we can persuade the Shinto to join in, he's gonna have a tough time enacting whatever plan he's concocting."

"Are the other pantheons aware of Spenta Mainyu?" Temujin asked.

Ahriman shrugged noncommittally. "That's unknown. They probably know that there is somebody supporting their enemies, but the chances that they are aware of his true identity is slim."

Lü Bu cocked his head to one side as he scratched his chin. "What's Spenta Mainyu's plan? What use does he have to open these gateways to the Land of the Dead? Does he plan on raising an army?"

"So far that's the best guess that we have. That's probably the reason he's building most of the gateways in lands that are unaffiliated with any of the major pantheons. This allows him the freedom to tamper with the specific afterlife of each area," the God of Evil responded pensively.

A short silence descended upon those in the meeting room, each looking at each other. Finally, Ahriman broke the silence with his question, "Does anybody have qualms with the plan or are we prepared to march off?" His tone was good-natured and light, even with the threat of death looming over each member.

That was something that Percy had learned fairly early on during his five-year stay in Purgatory. None of the warriors that Ahriman had gathered died. He had simply cursed them with a form of partial immortality. They wouldn't age anymore, though they could still die in the line of combat. Of course, Ahriman was _very_ careful with his group, and they were always connected to the god through the small pendant that each member was given. It acted as a lifeline of sorts, which allowed Ahriman to receive information about every member's condition. The pendant could act as a one-way communication device, like prayer beads. The small torch-like piece of jewelry was looped around Percy's neck now as well, having been given to him only a month prior.

"I'll take all of your silence as you being ready." Several nods accompanied his statement, causing the God of Evil to smirk. "Good, then off to war we go."

* * *

 **A/N: So there you have it! That my friends; is the end of the first major story arc. Next time we'll see Percy returning to Earth for the first time in five years. Just to clarify, it has been over six and a half years since the Second Gigantomachy ended, and five years since Percy was taken from Half-Blood Hill, meaning that Percy is 23 years old if I am correct. If we assume that Blood of Olympus ended in 2010, since all of the Heroes of Olympus novels took place over a years time span, then the current year in the fictional world would actually be spring of 2017. For simplicity let's just say April of 2017 is the current time for the story.**

 **I'm unsure of whether or not Percy's new sword should have a name, but as it stands I'm thinking that it would be easier to write action sequences with a name for it, so I'll probably think of one in the future. If anybody has a name that they think describes either Percy or the sword itself well, then by all means, send me a PM with your idea, and if I choose that name I'll give you credit for the idea of course. So yeah, next chapter will have Percy and Scathach going to Scotland, though Percy won't see his friends until after that specific mission is over. Worry not, he will encounter those who betrayed him soon, though his reaction may leave some people... dissatisfied. Either way, that's what's coming next!**


	8. The Human Experience: Scotland

**A/N: Chapter 8 has arrived. Once more, thanks to all those who Follow/Favorite/Reviewed. Support is always nice to have.**

 **So because this chapter is a bit longer than normal it also took a bit longer to come out than I had originally anticipated. Admittedly this one kinda morphed into what it became while I wrote it. The outline pointed to it actually being around 12k words, but it ended up being 17,920 words not including the author's notes. So yeah there's that. Anyway, let's talk pairing. Hestia leads by a fairly good amount, followed by Annabeth and Athena close behind her in the polls. Now, there have been reviews and PM's asking for Scathach, and if I tally all those up I actually get 15 votes for her alone. That puts her above Athena and on par with Annabeth. So there is a very real chance that our favorite spearwoman will be paired with Percy, which is surprising considering I actually didn't originally intend for that pairing to be considered.**

 **Polls will remain open for another two chapters or so before I decide to finalize pairings.**

 **Shoutout to Trigger-Happy Texan for helping with deciding the name of Percy's sword. His ideas inspired me to go with what I did, so thank you for your assistance.**

 ** _Reviews:_**

 **Nebular Reaper- Yes sir, this will be PercyxMulti, with a three-four girl max. Thank you for the kind words and for the review!**

 **spnaph- I'm glad that the gender reveal of Mordred was well received. I was hoping that I had done it a bit of justice. Yeah, Uncle Tem is _that_ guy. I felt that Percy has the right to be sassy given what he's been through and that it's just a great way to relieve some of the stress. Sarcasm is great in that way. I feel like a two-thousand-year-old warrior-woman would like to flirt a little with somebody like Percy, especially considering what Scathach sees in our Hero, which will be elaborated on in later chapters. Thanks once again for your review my friend!**

 **themagicplok- Thanks for your review! I tried to write the characters so that they weren't illogical and caricatures that are just exaggerated in their arrogance and paranoia. You would assume correctly, Scathach did train the Cu Chulainn, and that is in fact shown in this chapter. I tried to tie in the characters actual legends and then shift them slightly to fit what is needed for the story, without destroying the source material and culture from which they come. Of course, I do change things for my own whimsy since it is fanfiction, but still. Thank you for your kind words!**

 **Questionwise- Percy's strength will be shown in this chapter here. To let you know now, he is easily on par with most Olympians, and honestly could defeat any one of them if they were not in their divine forms, which grant them an edge in terms of raw power. Of course, this all depends on how much Percy was injured during any given fight. He has a limit, but even when he is below that limit he can do some major damage, as shown in this chapter. Thanks for the review!**

 **Averyk- Yeah, the inspiration for making Mordred female was definitely drawn from Fate/Stay Night and the Nasuverse as a whole. I adore the universe that Kinoko Nasu built, so there's that. Thanks for the feedback.**

 **Shigure Toshiro- Thank you for your review and kind words!**

 **Vital Calamity- It hurt me too, trust me. Riptide was a crucial part of Percy in my opinion, which is why I chose to break it. Erm, sorry about that. I just felt that it signified the end of an old life that way. So yay symbolism. Either way, thanks for the review!**

 **darkflare38- I'm glad I at least fooled somebody.**

 **SpencerDorman- Mhm, I agree with that reasoning. But when they have a long pedigree of trying to change things to benefit them, I'm sure it's difficult to just let go of that habit. Thanks for the review!**

 **impatientkid- Thanks for your kind words!**

 **BathoryMotives- I personally also don't enjoy Percy going off the deep-end and killing everybody. I find that working with his fatal flaw has so much potential for conflict and for showing how twisted an individual can be with good intentions. I'm glad I've circumvented the cliches of the betrayal/abandonment genre, because I find it a bit difficult to do. I hope to continue to entertain, thank you for your review!**

 **AmericanOperator- Thanks for the kind words!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own or make any money off of this work of fanfiction. All rights for the characters in Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus go to Rick Riordan and all who were involved in the creation of the novels.**

* * *

8\. The Human Experience: Scotland

* * *

Clouds rolled into place, covering the sun completely and casting a gray tone over Skye. The wind whipped across the hill that two figures stood atop, causing both of them to cover their faces. Percy and Scáthach looked out from their viewpoint, staring at the empty landscape before them. The son of Poseidon frowned as he scanned the immediate area, moving his hair away from his eyes. Green grass stretched for a few miles in each direction, with no signs of civilization to mention. There were scattered clumps of vegetation in the form of small dark-green bushes dotting the land, though there were no trees of any kind. The duo had seen neither hide nor hair of life when they had arrived. There were no birds, no rabbits, not even the occasional fly or insect in the bushes.

The land was practically dead. The only thing that made Percy feel somewhat calm was the fact that there was at least shrubbery growing around him. Scáthach being there next to him also helped ground him in confidence. He knew that she was strong enough to deal with practically all threats that might appear, and so he entrusted that she would carry her own weight should something go wrong. If anything he was beginning to become nervous over the prospect of failing in his own right. Percy was certainly one that took pride in being independent. As such, he would be displeased should he encumber his partner in any way. This was a mission that would prove to him that he was no longer weak. The son of Poseidon was prepared to show the world that he had returned with a vengeance.

"It's so quiet," Percy mumbled, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans, in order to keep them out of the chilled winds. Luckily for him, he had heeded Scáthach's warning about the wind and climate, therefore dressing properly for the weather. He had decided to wear a blue cotton long-sleeve shirt underneath a fleece gray and black sweater. Over the top of his sweater was a red puffer vest, for a little added protection from the wind.

Scáthach, too, had come prepared, though she had decided to wear her typical black jeans and a tan leather jacket with a white blouse underneath. Her hair was still loose, meaning that it blew in the wind viciously and occasionally whipped at her face. Percy was unsure why she had chosen to wear what she had, especially considering that there was a high chance they would encounter hostile forces. He doubted that the witch could achieve good range of motion when her lower body was trapped in a pair of jeans that made her legs look so long and her ass so taut.

With a short mental reprimand, Percy looked away from his partner's posterior, though the witch still caught his eyes before he could hide where they had been. The coy smirk that crossed her lips made the son of Poseidon grimace as he felt the walls of her flirtatious mood slowly enclose around him. Once Scáthach had her prey in sight there was little to be done about escape. Such was the way of nature, something that Percy had become privy to soon after Ahriman had taken him to Purgatory.

"Should I fear for my safety in your presence, Young Hero?" The magenta-haired woman asked innocently, her eyes becoming concerned as she watched him. "It seems you've taken an interest in me. Who knows what a man who has been denied the pleasures of the flesh for five years would do in the company of a beautiful young woman such as myself." With an exaggerated sigh, the woman placed a hand over her heart and pretended to swoon.

Percy took great effort to ignore what Scáthach was implying, but his mind traitorously turned towards certain images that he would rather have avoided. Controlling the heat that was slowly rising in his neck and face the former demigod coughed into his sleeve and turned away from Scáthach.

' _Damn that woman!'_

"Though, he's denied himself more than anything else really. I did tell you that I would be happy to help you with _anything_ that you might need didn't I? Those were my exact words your first night in Purgatory with the rest of our fun little entourage. It's a shame that you never followed up on my generous offer," Scáthach snickered, poking a finger into Percy's arm.

With a simple grunt, Percy pulled away from the teasing woman and walked down the hill. Scáthach jogged to keep up with the former demigod, her hands behind her back as she happily hummed a jaunty tune. Her steps were aggrandized for no particular reason, though Percy figured that it was simply to grate on his nerves. Unfortunately, it was working quite well.

"Really? How can you be so nonchalant in a situation like this?" Percy grumbled, rubbing his left forearm. He couldn't feel the carving beneath his clothing, but the itch was still there, and probably would always remain for as long as he lived. How long that would be was beyond him, considering that the sense of foreboding that he was experiencing was not shared by the more experienced warrior walking beside him.

Ahriman had transported the pair directly to Scotland after the meeting had ended via his dark-red mist. As soon as they had arrived, both Percy and Scáthach had been put on edge by the unnatural sense of gloom that clung to the land. The witch had taken some offense to the feeling, stating that under her care, the Isle of Skye had never felt so dead. While Percy couldn't confirm nor deny such a declaration, he admitted that whatever afflicted the lands they tread was extremely toxic. The air itself reeked of decay, and although there was plenty of grass and other greenery the duo were unnerved by the atmosphere.

"Ah geez, lighten up a little kiddo," Scáthach pouted, her bottom lip turning out a fraction as her eyes welled with false tears. "All I wanted to do was calm you down. You seemed so tense." Her expression shifted instantly into a more subtly playful one. "Maybe when we finish this up I can give _you_ a massage for once. You know, to repay all the times that you've done it for me."

A discrete twitch of the eye was all that Scáthach garnered from her partner, though that was enough to mollify her for the time being. She turned her attention forward, to the vast stretch of plains that greeted her vision. The clouds still clutched the sky in their grasp, though they had darkened in the small amount of time that the duo had been walking and chatting. She felt oddly uneasy as she continued to walk down the hill, unsure of what they would find at her former fortress. No doubt, Spenta Mainyu had tasked the protection of the gateway to somebody powerful. The only question was who that person would be.

"Does it bring back memories?" Percy asked, causing Scáthach to falter. Catching herself with a small reprimand, the woman rubbed one of her arms sheepishly.

"Yeah, it does. I recall the time that I spent here like it was only a few days ago. Of course, reality would like to differ in telling me that it was actually almost two thousand years," the woman responded honestly. "It's odd to think that I used some of these fields to train my other apprentice, and where I took my daughter to play when she was young."

Percy started at hearing that, nearly tripping over his own feet in surprise. True, she had told given him a bit of information about her life prior to Ahriman's interference, but never had she mentioned having a daughter. He wondered just how much was left to be learned about his mentor's life. They rarely discussed the past between the two of them, and that was the norm with basically all in Angra Mainyu's service. Percy had gleamed a few scraps of knowledge in sparse tidbits before, however, most of the warriors preferred not to discuss their past in depth.

"You have a daughter?" the son of Poseidon questioned, his eyebrows raised incredulously.

Scáthach's face wavered for a moment, her lips thinned and her eyebrows scrunching together. Her eyes fell to the ground for just a split-second, before she raised them once more. Percy had already caught the gesture, though, and something told him that his inquiry was not something that she usually answered easily.

"I had a daughter. That… was a long time ago, though. We lived here, in what I assume was content. Yes, we were both content with our lives…" Scáthach responded listlessly. Her face twisted ever so slightly, causing Percy to feel an immediate stab of guilt for having ever brought the subject to light.

Licking his suddenly dry lips, the son of Poseidon could only stare at the area before him as the duo continued walking. "I'm sorry."

"It was my fault you know?" Scáthach said suddenly. Her voice was almost trembling, and Percy didn't have the courage to look at her face, fearing that he would see the fall of the invincible warrior-woman that was Scáthach of Dún Scáith. He couldn't stomach the thought of his mentor falling like that because of his own idiotic question.

"I didn't know," he whispered lamely. He hoped that she hadn't heard and that the subject would be dropped in favor of anything else. Even uncomfortable silence would be preferred for him at that juncture.

With a morbid and sardonic chuckle, Scáthach continued. "Oh yes. The mother kills her daughter because of her love for said daughter. All I ever wanted was to see her grow up happy… was that too much to ask?"

"I don't suppose it was…"

A crow suddenly flew overhead, cawing loudly as it flapped its wings. The bird was large, too large to be normal. With a wingspan of nearly four feet and a body length of two, the crow was most certainly not mundane. The avian creature landed with a flourish of its large wings directly in front of the traveling duo. Percy and Scáthach looked at the crow and noticed the three blood red eyes that were lodged in its face. Two of the eyes were in their normal positions, though the third was located in the middle of the crow's forehead, a few inches above the large, jagged beak. The bird's feathers seemed to bend light around them, making the black seem abnormal in all sense of the word. It was almost as if darkness leaked out of the bird into the surrounding environment.

Percy frowned as he saw the crow cock its head in a very odd gesture. Scáthach, on the other hand, seethed with poorly contained anger. Hopping forward, the crow stopped only a foot away from the son of Poseidon. Tilting its head forward towards the former demigod, it then stared intently at him, causing no small amount of discomfort for the man. With a final shrieking and disgusting noise that sounded like mocking laughter, the black bird took to the sky once again. With a few circles over them, the crow then flew off towards the direction where the pair were also heading.

Blinking a few times, Percy turned to Scáthach, only to find her with Gáe Bolg manifested into the physical world from the Astral Plane. Noticing the white-knuckled grip that she had on the spear Percy took another look at the fleeing figure of the odd crow. His companion seemed just about ready to toss her spear like a javelin in order to impale the creature, but she instead just slammed the tip of Gáe Bolg into the ground, sinking the spearhead into the dirt several inches.

"Scáthach, what was that?" Percy asked, watching his partner with no small sense of worry.

The woman turned to him, and upon seeing the concern in his expression let her face fall into a more relaxed position. "Did you see anything when the crow looked into your eyes?" Scáthach demanded, her voice sounding borderline frantic. She hid her distress well, although Percy still detected hints of what she tried to obscure from him. He had spent too much time with her to simply remain unperturbed by her behavior.

"Hold on, what's going on Scáthach? You've been acting strangely for a while now," the Hero of Olympus responded, hoping to get some insight.

With a shake of her head Scáthach only reiterated her question. "Did you see anything? Visions perhaps? Images that you can't understand?" This time, her voice sounded ever so slightly panicked.

Deciding to humor his companion, Percy shook his head. "No, the bird just looked at me. I had a weird feeling -ominous even- but there were no visions. Now will you tell me what's gotten you so riled up?"

Letting loose a large sigh of relief, the witch's shoulders visibly dropped from their formerly tense position. "That three-eyed crow was a direct familiar to one of the most revered figures in Celtic Mythology. She is known as The Morrígan, Mórrígan, or simply Morrígu, and is the Goddess of Fate, War, and Death in Battle. If her familiar is flying about, then that means that she's around here too. Come, the damnable crow went towards our destination, we should hurry up and get there to interrupt whatever it is she's doing."

Percy nodded his head and followed after his partner. They kept a brisk pace as they traversed the plain terrain, shielding their faces from the icy cold winds that blasted them occasionally.

"So, you don't seem to like this Mórrígan character very much," Percy said, taking advantage of the lull between the heavy gales to speak. Scáthach had regained some of her former fire, something that Percy was glad for. It had been fairly awkward talking to the forlorn and brooding version of the witch.

"Of course, she is the one that caused my former student's death. I hold no love for that particular goddess," the warrior-woman responded, her grip on Gáe Bolg still vice-like.

Percy raised an eyebrow, "She killed Cú Chulainn?"

Scáthach's eyes widened slightly as she turned her head towards Percy. "You know who my former student was?"

The son of Poseidon chuckled softly at her expression. "Did you think that I wouldn't be curious about who you taught before me? I admit I didn't read much about your recorded legend, but I know that you once trained Cú Chulainn in combat and that you also gave him the spear, Gáe Bolg to use once he completed your training."

"Hm, you know more than I thought you might. Did you know that my student's original name was actually Setanta? He was simply given his new name after an unfortunate accident involving a dog." The witch smirked.

"Heh, I did not know that actually. I do know that his nickname was the Hound of Ulster, though, due to his defense of the land from Connacht, a rival domain at the time," Percy responded with a tap to his chin.

At that, Scáthach's smirk turned into a full smile as she nodded her head. "He was incredible in all honesty. He trained as hard as he could. Sure, he had his faults, but then again so do you. Nobody is perfect in the end."

"I'll have you know that I'm as close to perfect as one can get," bragged the once-demigod, puffing his chest out a bit for emphasis. He gained an obnoxiously pompous air about him as he strutted forward. His partner quickly put a stop to his faux sense of self when she lightly slapped his arm. Her grin and amused expression told the son of Poseidon that she was taking it all in stride.

Percy could tell that returning to the Isle of Skye was giving Scáthach no small amount of grief, and so he tried to take her mind off of the past. During his time in Purgatory, the young man liked to think that he and Scáthach had gotten close. He truly did care for the witch of Dún Scáith, and he would easily place her above many of his friends from Camp Half-Blood. Of course, the other warriors in Angra Mainyu's service were right up there with her. But in truth, he felt closest to her for whatever reason. As such, he disliked seeing her in such an anguished state.

The duo continued their trek, bantering idly as the time and scenery passed. The terrain almost always remained the same, which was nice since it meant that they wouldn't be required to cross any elevated areas. It was nearing four in the afternoon when both Percy and Scáthach saw the first sign of sentient life apart from The Morrígan's familiar.

"Hey, is that a guy standing over there?" Percy asked, squinting at the figure standing in the distance. Currently, the duo were walking the final few miles towards their goal of Dún Scáith, meaning that there was practically nothing but pastures and plains as far as the eye could see. Scáthach had told Percy that her former fortress was situated by the sea, meaning that eventually they would begin to hear the lapping of the waves. As it stood, though, they were still a little over an hour away on foot. That was where they found themselves, approaching the rigid figure that vaguely looked like a human.

"I don't know for sure. Keep your guard up, Young Hero," Scáthach cautioned, flourishing Gáe Bolg in her hand a few times as they walked.

As they neared, the intense feeling of both decay and also replenishment washed over the two. Immediately they were set on edge, knowing full well that the only a deity had the intense aura was being placed on display. The contradicting feel of both death and life made Percy and Scáthach fight the urge to simply back away from the figure. Soon enough, perhaps too soon for both warriors, they reached a safe distance from the deity.

With only twenty feet separating them, they saw the god turn to them, revealing a very effeminate looking man. The deity had long silver hair, braided so that it fell over his right shoulder. His features were soft, and there was nary a blemish on his face, showing that either he cared very much for his appearance or that he had never been injured before in his life. His skin was of fair coloration, and his smile seemed genial. The god was garbed in a simple black jacket over a gray shirt, along with white jeans and a pair of black shoes. The one aspect that truly set Percy on edge was the deity's eyes. His eyes had multiple pupils, with four in each eye. Each pupil was smaller than it should have been, though for all of them to fit in one eye it was the perfect size.

"Hello, I see that you are the ones that Mórrígan spoke of," the god greeted, his smile never wavering even as Scáthach raised her spear. His odd eyes roamed over her for a few seconds, before apparently discrediting her. When the quad-pupil orbs landed on Percy, they lingered for a significant amount of time. "How interesting. A mortal. What reason do you have to be here, mortal?"

Shivering at the soft voice that carried through the land, Percy tensed when the god's eyes locked with his own. "Oh you know, I heard that Scotland was beautiful this time of year, so I found a native to guide me through some historic locations. Is that a problem?"

The deity cocked his head to the side, his smile falling off of his face. He seemed to ponder the question seriously before he turned to Scáthach. "You have brought this child to his own death. Is that something you pride yourself in doing, Scáthach of Dún Scáith? Leading the younger generation to their early graves?"

The deity received no response from the witch, causing him to smile once more. The two stared at each other for some time, with one pair of scarlet eyes narrowed in disdain, and the other quad-pupil eyes filled with curiosity and contempt in equal parts.

"Who are you?" Scáthach questioned, her voice remaining level even though Percy could see the tension in her body.

"Crom Cruach," came the simple reply.

Immediately, Scáthach turned to face Percy. "Run, get to the fortress, stop whatever's going on over there." She got into her typical stance as she readied herself to attack. "I'll be holding off this one."

"Is it so wise to split up at a time like this?" The soft voice of Crom Cruach lilted. "After all, with Mórrígan completing the gateway, do you truly believe that the boy would understand what to do in order to stop the ethereal energy from gathering?"

Through grit teeth, the magenta-haired woman let out a string of curses. Her eyes flitted between Percy and Crom, seemingly trying to make a decision for the situation.

"Hold on, who is this guy?" the son of Poseidon asked, suddenly curious as to why his partner reacted as she had.

"Crom Cruach is an elder Irish god. He was already alive when the oldest of the Greek Titans roamed the earth. He was associated with Fertility and Bountiful Harvest when humans still worshiped him," Scáthach replied.

"So he's like Demeter," Percy concluded with a nod.

Scáthach deadpanned. "He always demanded human sacrifices in his name to produce a good harvest."

Another nod of Percy's head. "So… not like Demeter."

"Not in that particular way, no," Scáthach responded dryly, her eyes locking onto the form of Crom Cruach. The god didn't seem perturbed by the verbal interplay of Scáthach and Percy. His expression remained demure, and he revealed no signs of aggression towards the warriors standing across from him.

Percy stepped forward and placed a hand on his partner's shoulder, making her lower the blood-red spear in her hand. He moved past her, standing in front of her as he stared at the effeminate deity. "Scáthach, we'll have to split up here. You go on ahead to Dún Scáith and stop Mórrígan from finishing the gateway. I would have no clue on how to stop the flow of ethereal energy or whatever, so you're the best bet to do so. Leave Crom to me, and I'll buy you some time."

The warrior-woman bit her lip when she heard Percy's proposal, knowing that he was right. In order to stop the gathering of energy he would need to go into Otherworld, and confront The Morrígan there. Unfortunately for the both of them, Percy had no experience being in the Otherworld, meaning that it would fall to Scáthach in order to stop the gateway from being completed. If they fought against Crom Cruach together, there would be a chance The Morrígan could finish the project and open a rift between Earth and the Land of the Dead.

Dismissing Gáe Bolg back to the Astral Plane, the witch backed off and placed her hand on Percy's cheek. "Fight cautiously against this one, Young Hero. He is ancient. He is a god, an undoubtedly powerful one if he has resisted fading for this long."

The son of Poseidon nodded his head in affirmation, as he looked at Scáthach's eyes. "I'll be careful. You do the same against Mórrígan. I know you have a bone to pick with her over Setanta, but don't become blinded by anger," the young man advised.

"I'll be fine. Just make sure that you come back alive and in one piece, Percy." With that said, the magenta-haired woman took off in a dead sprint towards the fortress of Dún Scáith, leaving behind a determined Percy and an amused Crom Cruach.

"A mortal has deemed himself worthy to fight against me? Should I be honored or insulted? But then, you aren't the typical rabble that relies on the gods to do their work for them. I can feel it in you. That _taint_ that lies hidden beneath, it seeps into your very essence, it calls out to those attuned enough to understand it." The deity circled Percy, eyeing him intently.

"Why are you working with Spenta Mainyu? You must stand to gain something," the son of Poseidon said, never letting Crom out of his line of vision. The god stopped walking and pondered the question for a moment. He hummed to himself as his eyebrows furrowed, setting his face into a small frown.

With a sigh, Crom Cruach responded, "An enemy in battle and a friend in public will always remain an enemy. However, a friend in battle and an enemy in public is nothing greater than an enigma. I for one, don't like enigmas, and my goals are as simplistic as they are selfish. I like the world the way it is. I don't want it to change. Therefore I rise up and fight to keep it the same, and as such my motives are simple to the naked eye. Decipher that how you will, it doesn't matter to me. Currently, our goals contradict one another and as such we will be enemies on this battlefield, however, there is more than one battle fought during a lifetime. Perhaps we will find each other once again afterward. Unless of course, you die here today."

Without a word, Percy held out his left arm to the side. Feeling the burning itch in his forearm, a weight fell easily into his open palm. Gripping the leather on the handle, Percy twirled his newly manifested sword through the air. He had named the sword Ἄλγος (Algos), in reference to the Algea, who were personifications of woe and sorrow. To him, Algos was "Pain of Regret and Misfortune", though he simply called it Pain. The silver blade forged in the flames of divinity _felt_ menacing and sharp, even if its appearance was mundane. Feeling the itch of his carved scar subside, Percy had to admire the effectiveness of the Algiz rune. Scáthach had decided that it would be wise for him to always have his weapon when needed, and as such, she carved the Algiz rune into his forearm, signifying protection. She also carved Algiz into the leather of his sword's handle with the same bloody knife, therefore connecting the two together through concept. She had explained that with the concept of protection embedded into himself and the sword, he could manifest the sword from simple concept into the physical plane with a simple thought.

Crom Cruach narrowed his eyes at the weapon, already registering it as a top tier threat to his safety. He held out his own hand, parallel to the ground straight in front of him. From the earth shot a long construct made of white material. Percy noted that the edge of the object was sharp and dark in color, while the middle was white. Upon closer inspection, the son of Poseidon realized that the object was indeed a sword and that the center of the blade was, in fact, a human spine, giving the sword a slight crook. The rest of the weapon, namely the edges were made of what appeared to be wood, though Percy was sure that a divine weapon would cut through him, wood or not. The handle of the weapon was also a bone, though since it was wrapped in human skin, Percy was unsure of exactly which bone it was.

The god examined his sword, waving it back and forth in front of his face as his eyes ran over its full length. With a satisfied grunt, Crom Cruach held the blade of to his side, ready to swing at a moment's notice.

"Tell me, boy, have you ever fought against a god before?" Crom asked, genuine curiosity tinting his voice.

"As a matter of fact, I have. Quite the hassle, actually. So pesky, always believing that somebody like me could never beat them down to the dirt. Gods, Titans, Giants, you name it, I've fought it. " Percy shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess I'll be adding you to that growing list as well."

Cocking his head to the side in a child-like manner, the God of Fertility and Human Sacrifice looked at Percy with no small amount of mirth. "Is that what you believe then? That I will fall like those you have defeated already? Let me tell you, they may have underestimated you, however, I will not. Allow me to show you what true power is."

Before Percy could respond Crom Cruach slammed his foot down onto the ground, and reshaped the land with one step.

The earth groaned in protest even as it bulged beneath the energy that Crom pulsed into it. Trees burst forth from the dirt, reaching heights that Percy had only seen in Purgatory, These trees, however, were full of leaves, with a healthy brown shade to their bark and thick, strong branches that looked to be as large as a semi-truck. Jumping away from where he stood, Percy launched himself a dozen feet back, dodging the massive sequoia tree that exploded where he had been just a moment prior. Ducking and weaving through the tearing earth, the former demigod found himself running through a rapidly growing forest, one that Crom Cruach had created with a single step of his foot.

' _What the actual fuck.'_

The newly formed terrain was not simply littered with trees, however. Giant stemmed flowers bloomed towards the heavens, dotting out the gray sky with their massive petals. It would have been comical if a gargantuan rose bush hadn't risen directly in front of him, nearly skewering him on the veritable maze of thorns that grew out of the bush. Each thorn was the size of a minivan and there was an abnormal amount growing on each rose stem.

Several minutes of dancing through the ever-expanding foliage and Percy realized that he was completely lost. He had disoriented himself while fleeing and was now unsure of which way was which. Looking for a familiar tree, he narrowed his eyes as he felt Crom Cruach's power still radiated through the area. The entire forest was alive with his contradictory aura of both life and death. One string of expletives later and Percy calmed himself down enough to gather that there was no more vegetation growing.

"Can you fathom what it's like to have this kind of power, mortal?" Crom's voice rang out, echoing through the entire forest he had created. "This is my domain. This forest stretches for _miles_ , expanding into the very sea and going past even that."

Suddenly, Crom melted out of the trunk of a nearby tree, taking form in the blink of an eye. He stuck to the side of the tree, almost as if he were walking in an M.C. Escher painting. The god nonchalantly walked down the side of the tree, before he set foot on the ground once again, staring at Percy with bored eyes.

In response, Percy nodded his head in appreciation at the display of power that the god had let loose. "Impressive. I was never intending on holding back against a god, but this really makes it difficult to justify pulling my punches. Guess it's all or nothing now."

Without warning, Percy turned his sword on himself, and slid the blade through his left shoulder, piercing through the bone but easily missing the thoracoacromial and subscapular arteries. Biting back a groan of pain, the young man used the curse of vitality to heal the wound to where it wouldn't bleed, but not enough to where the pain would recede. Quickly letting a small breach in his mental barriers appear, a sharp migraine formed as Percy was forced to recall the memories of Ahriman's training.

' _Good, but not good enough.'_ Percy thought sourly. He grimaced as he looked at his outer appendages, before making a split-second decision and bringing his sword up and through his elbow, running the blade up the length of his upper arm, cutting through the humerus of his left arm. The bone split cleanly down the middle, and Percy ground his teeth together as he watched blood flow out of his gruesome wound. Closing the blood vessels in that part of his arm, the son of Poseidon blinked away tears of pain from the torment that he was inflicting upon himself.

His left arm was all but useless, and the pain was causing his vision to blur. That being said, he also felt the curse of sacrifice working to give him what was needed.

Crom seemed surprised by Percy's self-mutilative actions and was caught off-guard when the son of Poseidon suddenly charged at him. The god barely managed to move to his right when Algos cleanly impaled him through the chest, missing his heart by centimeters. Percy's blade hilted itself in Crom Cruach, extending completely out of his back. With a snarl, the ancient god lifted his foot and crashed it against Percy's gut.

The former demigod was pushed away, pushing the soles of his feet against the ground to create friction. He slowed his momentum just in time to move out of the way of a wide swing made by Crom. The two surged toward each other, clashing their swords together. Percy wasn't surprised when his foe's sword held strong against his own with nary a chip shown. What was surprising was that the two seemed to be equals in terms of strength.

Or that's how it seemed until Crom pushed Percy away with his sword. A root wrapped around Percy's foot and held him in place while the God of Fertility stabbed the son of Poseidon through the stomach. Without missing a beat the former demigod brought his sword down and slashed through the roots that held him in place. Jumping back, Percy let his curse heal his newly acquired wound completely.

Crom Cruach quirked his eyebrow at seeing the skin and tissue knit themselves back together quickly. Soon, there was nothing left of the hole that had once taken residence on Percy's torso, something that Crom was understandably confused by. He looked down to the hole in his own chest, noting that it was no longer bleeding, but that it still hadn't fully healed.

"An interesting ability you have. Healing your wounds as such, and yet your self-inflicted injuries are still there." The god observed with a frown.

Percy let go of a throaty chuckle, one that reminded him a little too much of Ahriman.

' _I really shouldn't adopt the mannerisms of that asshat.'_

Instead of responding, the son of Poseidon leaped forward and engaged his opponent in close quarters, unwilling to allow Crom an opening to use his domain. The two exchanged a series of attacks, though neither was able to land a solid blow. Percy's sword cut the god a few times, and he, in turn, received a few lacerations of his own. The dull sounds of Algos connecting with the wood-bone sword that Crom used reverberated through his body. Each hit rattled him, showing that the god was far more powerful than he had originally anticipated.

Percy had faced many immortals in his time, though he had to admit, most of them weren't very impressive when it came to close quarters combat. Kronos and Hyperion were fairly proficient, but apart from them most other immortals relied heavily on their domain and their abilities granted to them in order to defeat opponents. Crom Cruach was a deity that was quickly gaining respect in Percy's eyes.

The god was very skilled with his weapon. Hell, he could probably match Mordred in terms of pure swordsmanship. Add to that the insane amount of strength behind each blow and Percy was finding himself being pushed back slowly but steadily. He ducked under a wide swing, but before he could retaliate Crom spun around and delivered a skyward diagonal slash, putting the son of Poseidon on the backfoot. Percy swept low with Algos in an attempt to cut through the god's feet. Crom saw it coming and swiftly lifted his leg, letting the sword pass under the sole of his foot.

Rapidly raising Algos, Percy managed to parry a strike aimed at his neck. Crom's sword went to the left and the former demigod stepped up into the deity's guard. Percy sent his head forward, crashing his skull against his foe's nose, staggering Crom. While he stumbled back, the curse-bearer moved to the right and drew his sword along Crom's side, cutting deeply into the skin and passing through the sixth and seventh rib. Golden ichor splashed across Percy's arms as his blade slid through his foe's body.

The god grunted and pushed himself away from the debilitating attack clutching his side as ichor spilled freely from his horrible injury. Quickly catching his breath, the deity moved just in time to avoid being decapitated. He soon found himself backpedaling from the flashing silver that came at him in a flurry of strikes. He raised his sword arm and parried an overhead strike, directing it to the right of his body. Spinning on his heel, Crom rammed the handle of his sword into Percy's temple.

Stunned, the son of Poseidon could not react when his opponent cut a deep gash into his neck. Blood splattered his fleece jacket and drenched his right side, indicating to Percy that his external jugular vein had been slashed. He felt the warmth of his blood fall on his lower neck and torso, and he quickly healed the entire wound, not desiring to risk such a dangerous injury being reopened easily during battle. Searing pain wreaked havoc through his brain as the curse caused the pain to multiply nearly two-hundred fold. He felt his mental barriers strain under the added pressure of filtering out the external pain when compounded with the ever-present psychological assault.

' _If I suffer too many of those kinds of wounds I'll eventually break under the pressure. Damn it, if only I had gotten a good grasp on the Eye of the Mind I wouldn't be having these problems.'_

Percy felt uncomfortable in his attire now that he was in the heat of battle, thus he shed his vest and jacket, leaving him in just the cotton long-sleeve shirt.

"Do you understand now? Even with your odd regenerative power, you'll never be victorious in this fight," Crom Cruach stated with a shake of his head.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that," Percy responded dryly. He charged, this time with far more vigor than before. Crom's eyes narrowed slightly when he saw that his foe had somehow gained speed. The god blocked a bone-rattling blow that would have easily bisected him had it connected. Algos pushed forward, and Crom was surprised when he saw that his own sword had been cut into. It wasn't a particularly large cut, being only a centimeter deep, but it was enough to show the deity that his foe was extremely dangerous.

With a sneer, the god pushed back against Percy only to find himself struggling to make any progress.

The son of Poseidon smiled when he saw Crom strain against the might of his swing. Deadlocking swords, Percy planted his feet and began to slowly move forward with his massive strength. He had to admit, the curse of sacrifice fit him far better than the curse of power ever did. He could actually accept the curse as his own. His life would always be filled with pain and sacrifice. That was his nature, and he was proud of it. He didn't care about whether his loyalty was twisted, or if his view of the world was broken, Percy would save those he cared for, damn the consequences. He would sacrifice thousands to save his friends. He would sacrifice millions to save his romantic interests. He would _personally_ slaughter the world to save his mother. That was who he was. It was who he always was, though he hadn't realized it until a few years prior.

He was always meant for a life of pain. He was always meant to be the sacrifice.

With a feeling of renewed content, the young man disengaged himself from his opponent and performed a warrior's pirouette, letting his sword fall a bit. Algos easily sliced through Crom's thighs, causing the god to fall stumbled forward from the loss of pressure on his own blade and the wounds he received. Percy righted himself and slashed upward with his blade, catching Crom while he fell. The silver sword tore its way into Crom Cruach's throat and up through his head. The god fell to the ground, his head split widely in two parts, his golden ichor staining the grass and dirt beneath where he lay.

Percy sniffed in disgust at seeing the bloody mess that was the inside of Crom Cruach's head. It was interesting enough, though, considering that along with the bone and tissue of brain was the aurate coloration of ichor. With blood, it simply made things look ugly, however, Percy found an odd beauty with ichor splashing the insides of a god.

As he went to turn away, the son of Poseidon stopped dead when he saw the body of his defeated foe roll over on its own accord. The two halves of Crom's head that were still connected to the bottom of his neck hung limply to the left and right, ichor still pouring out of his body. The deity sat up, and pushed himself off the ground with his hands, wiping off the dirt from his pants.

With horrid fascination, Percy watched as the thin web-like tissue strands began to grow from the inside of Crom's head and neck. The strands reached and connected with their counterparts from the other side of the god's head and began to slowly pull the two halves together. It was in that moment that Percy was tempted to attack his now regenerating opponent, yet he held himself back from doing so. He knew that even though the deity had been injured, he could still defend himself from an assault.

Soon enough, Crom Cruach stood before the son of Poseidon completely wound free. The only indicator that he had sustained damage was the golden tint that his clothes had taken. Crom smiled pleasantly at his foe, seeing Percy's clenched jaw.

"Oh dear, it would seem that you aren't the only one who can recover from grievous bodily harm," the God of Human Sacrifice taunted softly. He craned his neck to the side, eliciting several pops from his spine as he did so. "Let us continue shall we?"

* * *

 _With Scáthach…_

Scarlet-red eyes gazed at the vast expanse of vegetation that had suddenly sprouted from the ground all around her. One minute Scáthach had been sprinting towards her old home, and the next she had been furiously dodging a rapidly growing forest. She had ridden a particularly large tree as it shot skyward in order to help gain her bearings in the new terrain. The warrior-woman found herself now staring at the epicenter of the massive amount of power that radiated through the land. She bit her lip when she felt the very earth shake under what she assumed was the combined blows of her student and Crom Cruach.

' _He's fighting to buy me time… I can't fail him now. Standing here and bemoaning the hand we were dealt will do nothing to stop the gateway from being completed.'_

Scáthach almost lost her balance from the branch where she stood when the world seemed to quake once again. She had to admit, for Percy to be putting up such an admirable fight against an ancient god such as Crom Cruach was incredible. Not for the first time did the age old witch feel a sense of immense pride swell through her chest when she pictured the kind of warrior that she had helped Percy become. He was far more powerful than she had anticipated him being after only five years of training. This was ignoring that her student had needed to completely re-learn a proper way to fight with his sword, and that he had gained two new curses in lieu of his old one.

Even so, as it stood Percy was dealing with somebody like Crom Cruach as his first true enemy in the new war. Looking back, she realized that she should have warned him of many things before she had taken off for Dún Scáith, and it was a mistake that could very well take the life of her precious student. She had already lost one before, and the thought of losing another made her breath hitch in her throat. And if he were to die, then it truly would have been partially her fault. Scáthach knew that her student would not be well-versed when it came to Irish Mythology, and that meant that he had no knowledge of exactly who Crom Cruach was. Because in addition to being a god of Human Sacrifice and Fertility, he was also a Solar Deity and a deity of Darkness. Crom Cruach was perhaps one of the biggest contradictions to walk the earth.

And that made him one of the most dangerous gods in existence in Scáthach's opinion. It certainly didn't help that he was near his native lands and that he was more than likely so powerful that he didn't need worship in order to sustain his strength. As it were, Percy was confronting a deity who possibly had his full strength intact.

' _Come back to me safely Percy. If you died because of my own mistake of misinformation…'_

With a deep sigh, the magenta-haired woman jumped off the tree where she was standing and onto the one adjacent to her. She kept moving on the top of the trees as she continued toward Dún Scáith.

Occasionally, the ground would move as the two monsters of strength clashed with one another, causing the witch to stop and gain her footing. Leaves fell from the trees when the world shook, and some of the smaller trees shook violently. Resisting the urge to rush back to where Percy was fighting, Scáthach pushed forward.

Not a minute later did she find herself staring at the decrepit stone structure that once was her former home. There were only a few visible parts of the ramparts, with most of the castle walls having fallen long ago. There was moss and grass covering most of the stone that still stood valiantly. The sound of sloshing waves hitting the rocks around her fortress sent a pleasant shiver of nostalgia down her spine. The smell of the sea and the wind blowing through her hair took Scáthach away to days already past, back when she still lived on Skye happily.

With slight hesitation, the woman walked through the crumbling remains of Dún Scáith. There was a small incline to get to the top of the outcropping of rock that Dún Scáith used to stand atop. As she trudged up the grass covered mounds of stone her senses remained spread. Her eyes never ceased in their movement as she scanned her surroundings, alert and ready to react to danger. Upon reaching the top she looked around to find where Mórrígan had entered. Soon, her eyes spotted a hole in the ground, signifying that she was indeed standing on the ruins of her castle. While most people saw Dún Scáith as an imposing but small fortress, she knew that the true scope was hidden from view. The true magnificence of the "Fortress of Shadow" was beneath what most could see. Under the earth was where a majority of her home lay, and it was also where the portal to the Otherworld stood.

It seemed that Mórrígan had little patience and simply tore her way down into the bowels of Dún Scáith. With a loud sigh, the witch trod carefully toward the edge of the hole. She looked down only to find that she could not see too far down. Frowning, Scáthach kicked a baseball sized rock into the castle so that she could obtain a vague sense of the distance to the bottom of the drop. She was surprised when instead of hearing the rock hit stone floors, she heard a loud splash, indicating that the bowels of her castle were now filled with water.

Without any further hesitation, Scáthach jumped down, falling for only a second before she impacted the cold, salty water. The warrior-woman immediately surfaced and took a deep breath while wiping her eyes of the stinging sea-water. Taking stock of her surroundings Scáthach noted that there were several blue orbs floating throughout the flooded room, both under and over the water. The orbs illuminated the area fairly well, allowing the witch to see that she was in one of the storage rooms of the castle.

Seeing that there were more of the luminescent orbs leading off to one side, the magenta-haired woman deduced that the goddess she was after had gone in that direction. With another heavy sigh, Scáthach dove back under the water and followed the trail that had been left behind.

She swam for nearly thirty minutes, taking some time to resurface where there were small air pockets in the submerged castle. Her eyes were slightly sore from being kept open in salt-water, but with the amount of twisting and turning that she had needed to perform it was the only way she could find the proper path. It had been quite some time since she had walked through the halls of Dún Scáith. It would have been impressive should she have remembered the layout of the fortress well enough to walk through the corridors blindfolded. As it stood, she was swimming through the castle that she hadn't visited for centuries, with only a few balls of light to guide her.

Eventually, Scáthach made it to a large room that was only slightly submerged in water. Crawling out on the stone floors, Scáthach took a moment to catch her breath and look around. Almost immediately she realized that the blue orbs had led her directly to the room where the Otherworld Portal was located. Large pillars rose out of the ground and to the curved ceiling, standing imposingly over any who entered the area. Some of the pillars had been reduced to rubble, though there were still many lining the room. The pillars formed two columns, giving those who walked the room a path to follow. At the end of the path was an elevated platform, on which stood a stone archway with multiple Celtic runes carved in place. The archway stood at a height of fifteen feet and the runes pulsed with green power.

As she approached the archway, Scáthach steeled herself for the confrontation to come. Mórrígan would surely be on the other side of the portal, prepared to face any intruder in Otherworld. Truthfully, she was glad to be done with Dún Scáith so quickly. As she looked around all she saw were memories of times past. From where she stood, it was an overlooking view, and all of her troubles could be seen easily from said view. But when she was still living in those moments from so long ago, things were never clear, always shades of gray that obscured the bigger picture. She hated all shades of gray.

Summoning Gáe Bolg into her hands, the woman made her way up the steps of the platform. She didn't stop even as a green, undulating ripple of ethereal energy formed inside of the archway, signifying that the portal to Otherworld had opened. With squared shoulders and tensed muscles, Scáthach walked through the portal.

* * *

 _With Percy…_

The ground around the two monsters of strength shattered, sprinkling the air with dust, grass, and chunks of rock. Two swords, one a masterfully crafted labor of love, and the other a twisted abomination of a weapon locked together in a struggle for dominance. Their respective wielders snarled at one another from where they stood, feet pushing against the earth, desperate to gain a good hold. Muscles, ripe with power and vigor, strained as the two combatants pushed against one another in an effort to overpower the opposing force. Sea-green eyes narrowed as multi-pupil eyes glared back. Inches separated the two foe's, both in physical distance and figurative power.

Crom Cruach and Percy pushed off of one another at the same time, retreating as they shook the numbness from their arms. Each strike that the two threw now shook the land for miles around them. Percy felt the soreness seeping through his bones, but he continued forward, using the throbbing pain that each hit generated to his own advantage. The curse of sacrifice empowered him to fight harder, while the curse of vitality assisted him in fighting longer. Each splinter that occurred within his skeletal structure was healed, then the pain from that healing gave him the strength to stand up to the ancient god that opposed him. Yet he knew that he had a limit, everything had one. Gods and mortals alike could only withstand so much pain before their brains shut down. As it stood, Percy wasn't there yet. In fact, he had some ways to go until he reached his own breaking point, but when he did it would mean the end for him.

The son of Poseidon rushed his enemy once again, swinging his sword at the god's neck. Upon seeing Crom duck under Algos, Percy spun on his heel and delivered a powerful straight kick to the deity's face. With no room to maneuver, the silver-haired god was struck with the bottom of Percy's foot, shattering his nose instantly under the blow. Crom was sent tumbling back a dozen feet through the dirt until his momentum was stopped by a tree.

The god growled as he pushed himself to his feet. He dashed toward the former demigod and slammed his sword against Percy's. Tremors rocked the area, as a major shock wave rattled the branches of nearby trees. Some of the weaker tree trunks groaned and cracked upon being buffeted by the force. Percy and Crom danced around one another, their blades quickly parrying and riposting when the time was right. No movement was wasted when the two battled, each combatant flowing along with their weapons. Crom swung low, creating a large gash in the dirt as his sword dragged. Percy moved back, avoiding being crippled by the abominable blade, and set his stance once more. He thrust his blade toward the god's chest, only for it to be knocked off course by a swift parry from his foe. Using his momentum, Percy took advantage of the way his body was moving in order to ram his knee into Crom's gut.

Winded, the ancient deity moved back clutching his stomach. Before Percy could capitalize on Crom's situation, the god lifted a hand and leveled it at Percy. An intense gathering of bright white light was the only warning that the curse-bearer was given preceding a massive beam of solar energy was sent his way. Bending back, the beam passed directly over Percy's body and face, allowing the former demigod to feel the scorching heat that was inches away from melting the tissue off his bones. The beam of light tore through the forest, felling trees with relative ease.

Percy twisted his body to the side and rolled out of the way of Crom's attack. The god cut off the beam and frowned as Percy righted himself.

"Disappointing. I had hoped to end it with that attack. But now you know about my role as a solar deity, leaving me with one less trick up my sleeve. You seem very good at ruining the plans of immortals, has anybody ever told you that?" Crom asked dryly.

With a smirk, Percy responded, "As a matter of fact yes. Sorry for being such a pain in the ass."

He would have taunted the god more if a moving shadow hadn't caught his eye from his peripheral vision. The shadow leaped at him, solidifying in mid-air as it became a javelin of darkness set on skewering the former demigod. Without hesitation, Percy turned and tried to swipe at the javelin. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to detect it in time, therefore losing precious seconds, allowing the dark construct to pierce his chest cavity through the sternum. Percy immediately felt faint as blood escaped his body in massive quantities. The javelin had dissolved right after impaling him, leaving a gaping wound in his torso, with deep crimson blood pouring out of his mortal injury.

Stumbling back, Percy barely managed to move out of the way of another beam of light that Crom fired from his hand. While the beam didn't hit it's intended mark, his right arm was caught by his own movement. The skin evaporated on contact, with the muscle and tendon following shortly after. His bones too began disintegrating under the coalesced light beam. With a yelp, Percy pushed back and to the left, tripping over his feet and falling heavily to the ground. His body had already started healing the damage that had been inflicted on it. Ten more spears made of physical darkness stabbed through Percy's lower body and torso, four through his thighs and the remaining six through his gut and ribs.

 _ **Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain.**_

Percy could feel nothing except for agony as his body knit itself back together. For a moment, the former demigod lost all coherent thought as sheer anguish coursed throughout his being. The pain was beyond simply physical affliction. It sculpted itself into his very existence, becoming all that Percy knew for what seemed like years. Without him focusing on healing his injuries, the curse of vitality stopped. As quickly as he had lost his concentration, it came back to him as he realized that stopping the pain would lead to his death. With a wretched scream, Percy let the curse activate once again, closing the holes that littered his body.

Rising to his feet, the curse-bearer charged at the being who was tormenting him. Gripping Algos with both hands, Percy sent a powerful overhead swing careening toward a visibly disgruntled Crom Cruach.

The deity had no time to lift his own blade and counter the blow. Instead, he took one step back on instinct, though it did nothing to mitigate the damage that came from Percy's swing. Algos cut through Crom's body unabatedly, cleaving the god in two from his left shoulder to his right hip. The blade didn't stop there, though, as it collided with the ground a moment later.

The world shook as a massive shock wave ripped the huge trees out of the ground by their roots. The land around the two combatants was torn and broken as a large chunk of earth cratered beneath the swing that Percy had made. Dust was kicked up and spread throughout the battlefield, and debris was sent soaring hundreds of feet through the air. Everything within five-hundred feet of the epicenter of the devastation was leveled, the terrain demolished as unnatural ravines formed in the earth, dropping for hundreds of feet into the crust. Trees the size of ten-story buildings were destroyed, wood and leaves scattered across the area, with some large clumps of dirt and branches falling from the sky.

Percy and the remains of Crom fell down the immense crater that had been left as a result of Percy's swing. They tumbled through the rock and dirt, rolling head over heel as they painfully slammed against jagged edges of the newly formed basin. Bones shattered and skin was rent from tissue, blood splattering and coating the areas that Percy and Crom landed on. Red and gold hues painted and mixed with the dark brown dirt.

With a heavy thud, the two halves of Crom Cruach and the whole, but battered body of Percy found the bottom of the crater. Ichor liberally flowed out of the deity's body, soaking the ground. Percy groaned and picked his head up, looking toward where the halves of his foe lay. The son of Poseidon saw Crom split cleanly, his intestines dyed aurate, spilled and contorted around his lower half. His upper half had a few ribs poking through, though what disturbed Percy was the still beating heart of the god. His left lung had been cleaved through, along with some of the left ventricle and apex of his moving heart.

Standing up, Percy readied his sword, knowing not to let his guard down around his opponent so easily. As if on cue, the threads that once reconnected Crom's head shot out of his upper body, easily making their way towards the lower half. Percy prepared himself to jump forward and cut the threads but was forced to dodge a volley of black arrows that fired from the shadows. He spun and twisted his body, slashing at any arrow that came close to hitting its target. The black arrows dissolved upon being dodged or cut, leaving nothing behind. As he ran towards the downed and regenerating God of Fertility, Percy was once more assailed, though this time it was by beams of light that fell from the heavens. The beams came randomly, never truly targeting the son of Poseidon, though they seemed to always protect the body of Crom. Percy found himself deftly moving around the crater, avoiding the incoming coalesced light rays that would surely cause major damage if the holes that they left in the earth were any indication.

Because the columns of light weren't delivered to him, the former demigod found it difficult to focus on attacking Crom's body while randomly evading the attacks. He cursed when he saw his opponent sit up, body completely repaired. The god looked fairly displeased if the scowl was anything to base assumption off of. Percy moved a few feet back to avoid a light column, only to find himself also needing to parry a javelin of darkness that was obscured from view only moments prior by the same light column. More javelins fired at him from the shadows cast by the columns that fell over the land. Soon, the son of Poseidon found himself assaulted by hundreds of dark constructs from all directions. The light rays too increased in frequency as they began to fall in rapid succession around the area.

' _Fucking hell, at this rate the whole damn Isle of Skye will be destroyed.'_ Percy thought as the terrain was once again destroyed by the fight between himself and the silver-haired god.

Crom, seemingly fed up with indirect attacks, charged the son of Poseidon with his sword raised. The two clashed once more, and Percy had to disengage so as to avoid the sharpened roots that tore through the earth. Jumping away, Percy ducked under several spears that Crom had fashioned from the shadows. Rolling away from the rapid-fire attacks, the former demigod cut through the giant roots that tried to constrict his movement. Crom appeared before him just as he had finished, arm colliding with Percy's stomach.

The young man was pushed back, and Crom used the moment to slam his hands together. The area for miles around them was thrust into darkness as the god brought forth his domain. While it was dark, Percy could still see well enough to know what his immediate surroundings were. Unfortunately, Crom had been standing fairly far away when he cast his power over the land, meaning that Percy had no way of knowing exactly where he was. His vision was decent going a few feet out, but anything beyond five meters was enveloped in the inky black of the deity's power.

From all around him, Percy could hear a whistling in the air signifying that something was approaching at high speeds. Readying his blade, the son of Poseidon moved to the left slightly, avoiding dozens of black arrows. Turning around, he slashed the air in front of him, severing dozens more. He leaped into the air when several spears were thrust towards him from the earth made of wood. Landing deftly on his feet, the son of Poseidon spun low, avoiding the sword that nearly took his head off his shoulders. Kicking out with one leg he caught Crom in the ankle, bringing the god to one knee. Percy pushed forward and got up quickly, before ramming his own kneecap into the god's chin.

The two tumbled to the ground, with Percy landing on top of the deity. Percy brought his sword up and slashed through the god's neck in tangent with the god's own black war hammer that connected with the curse bearers chest. Percy was thrown back by the force of the blow, his ribs broken and piercing his lungs. Looking down at his chest, Percy noted that he could see the bones sticking out of his skin and that his breathing became labored and wheezy. Pain seared itself into his brain as he healed the wounds.

Suddenly, light came back to the land as Crom's power crumbled away. Temporarily blinded, the son of Poseidon saw that Crom Cruach was standing up, with his neck slowly being knit back together. The two glared menacingly before they charged each other once again.

* * *

 _With Scáthach…_

Almost as soon as she stepped foot in Otherworld did the witch of Dún Scáith know that something was wrong. Usually, the portal would deposit her directly in the fields that ran rampant with the souls of the nondescript humans that had died. It more often than not took quite a bit of struggling and pushing to get anywhere within the Astral Plane, especially since there seemed to be so many souls simply milling about, not in a hurry to do anything. Now, though, as Scáthach found herself in Otherworld, she was not jostled and cramped. In fact, there was more open space in the gray and barren landscape than she had ever seen before.

The Astral Plane was not what one would call "picturesque". The land was flat and unimpressive, simply stretching in every direction for miles without trees or vegetation. The dirt was an ugly shade of light-gray, making it look dead and unhealthy. The sky was eternally cloudy and was also tinted gray with hints of sickly green wisps lazily gliding through the air. The overall atmosphere of the Astral Plane was gloomy and morbid, a fairly unpleasant area to spend one's afterlife in. The air was thick and humid, so much so that it almost felt like Scáthach could swim through it.

While Scáthach was accustomed to the finer details of the Astral Plane and therefore not phased when she visited once more, she was surprised and worried to see that there were absolutely no souls around her. Normally there would have been too many to count, each simply wandering around, pushing against one another just to aimlessly walk for the rest of their existence. Now, she couldn't see a single soul in any direction she looked.

"It's more prominent how disgusting this land actually is when there aren't as many people around," A voice called out from behind the magenta-haired woman.

Whirling around Scáthach came to face the one who she had been chasing. A girl, looking to be around sixteen in age stood staring at the scarlet-eyed woman.

"Mórrígan. Fancy meeting you in a place like this. Of course, I should have expected you to dredge around in dreary places like this, considering who you are." Scáthach sneered, her eyes locking onto the slender form of her identified enemy.

The Goddess of Fate seemed unimpressed by the response that she received. Clad in black cargo pants and a black tank-top, the goddess seemed prepared for combat. Mórrígan's eyes were a brilliant amethyst color, standing out even in the dreary environment of the Astral Plane. Her face held a soft quality to it befitting her apparent chosen age, while at the same time seeming older than it should have been due to her divine nature. She held a fair complexion with some freckles splashed across her face, though they weren't very noticeable. The goddess' pitch black hair was held in a ponytail, with a few strands of her hair loose around her oval shaped face. Her eyes were sharply defined by the small amounts of black eyeliner that was applied to both her upper and lower eyelids.

"Resorting to petty insults about my domains, are we? You were once a feared warrior-woman that was given the title of god-slayer. Have you truly become so base and tawdry that you would lower yourself to mud-slinging? I almost pity you then if that should be the case," the goddess said contemptuously, folding her arms over her chest.

"Just stating my opinion Mórrígan, no need to get so testy," the witch of Dún Scáith responded derisively. She raised her spear and pointed it at the goddess across from her. "How about we skip the jeering and heckling and jump straight to the reason I'm here."

"So blunt," Mórrígan stated with a roll of her eyes. "You should put that spear away if you don't want to hurt yourself, little girl. You may have killed a few gods in the past, but don't think for a second that any of those minor deities could ever compare to me."

Scáthach shrugged dispassionately. "I never implied something like that. Don't take me for a fool, it degrades my past accomplishments. Answer me one thing though, what did you do with the souls?" Motioning around her the scarlet-eyed woman continued. "There should be countless numbers of them milling about, and yet here we stand holding a conversation at a respectable distance from one another. One of two things comes to mind in this scenario. You either relocated them for whatever reason, which I find highly unlikely, or you destroyed them for another reason that I can't fathom."

Mórrígan whistled lowly and nodded her head. "Wow, your powers of deduction are simply amazing. Perhaps you should take up the mortal line of work of a police investigator. Or a private detective. Or you can join Mystery Inc. and help Scooby and the gang solve a variety of cases that way. I'm sure you'd make for an excellent addition to their group with your sleuthing skills."

"Your sarcasm truly does make my day Mórrígan, however, if you would just answer the question we could stop playing nice and get down to the nitty-gritty of this little house call." Scáthach retorted dryly.

"The nitty-gritty you say? Ah, you mean the part where we fight and you try to kill me for your ill-conceived revenge? Gotcha, sure sure, let's get going with that then." The goddess closed her eyes and nodded her head. "Smart idea. Well if you _truly_ must know what I did with those poor, unfortunate souls, let's just say that you should be prepared, because I have friends on the other side," The dark-haired deity replied cryptically.

Scáthach deadpanned at her opponent, her eyelids drooping down to show her apathy. "Did you just…? No, nevermind that. You didn't really answer my question anyways…"

With a sigh, the goddess said, "I converted the souls into ethereal energy. There happy? They weren't doing anybody any good sitting here, moping around for eternity anyway! At least now they have a purpose, one that's greater than all of their insignificant lives combined."

"How many did you convert?" Scáthach asked airily. Truthfully, she didn't feel bad for the souls that had been used. In a way, Mórrígan was right. The souls truly weren't doing anybody any favors just standing in the Astral Plane for the rest of time. They no longer had any purpose after their lives had run out, and since they had done nothing worthy of note during that time they had been partitioned and placed in the Astral Plane. The souls of mundane and simplistic humans did not garner much sympathy from Scáthach.

"Millions… tens of millions perhaps, I can't say for certain anymore. Why? Surely the afterlives of so many boring humans don't matter to you, hmm" Mórrígan hummed, her finger tapping her chin.

Scáthach frowned. "No, it doesn't matter to me how many mundane souls you've converted. I would hope you have more sense than to harm any souls living in Tech Duinn though _(1)_."

The young goddess waved her hand dismissively in front of her face. "Please, if I wanted to I could have done the same to those souls as well. Even though Donn _(2)_ doesn't side with us at the moment, that doesn't mean the fool would have been able to stop me should I try and invade his realm."

"He is older and more powerful than you, surely you can't be so arrogant to not see that," Scáthach pointed out. "A son of The Dagda _(3)_ is more than a match for you, vile collector."

"True that may be, however, I don't think Crom would have been adverse to defeating Donn should our goals have taken us to Tech Duinn." Replied Mórrígan defensively. "Speaking of Crom, I wonder how he's faring against your young accomplice. When I sent my familiar to greet the both of you, it surprised me to see that you had brought such a young man to his certain death. Not that I mind, of course, considering that he is a warrior, and as such, I would be more than happy to collect him after his life ends."

A scowl formed on the features of Scáthach's face. "You think far too highly of yourself if you believe that you'll be in any condition to 'collect' anything once I'm done with you."

The goddess gave Scáthach a sly grin. "A little defensive over that child aren't you? Why is that I wonder? Perhaps this is atonement for practically leading your former student to his early grave?"

Scáthach didn't give her foe any more time to talk as she burst forth, thrusting her spear in an attempt to skewer Mórrígan's head. The goddess leaped back from the attack and batted the spear away with her forearm. Without losing her momentum, Scáthach spun on her heel and slammed her foot into the goddess' stomach.

Mórrígan clutched her gut and ducked under Gáe Bolg as it passed over her head. The goddess crouched low and pounced on her opponent's unguarded midsection with a heavy tackle. With her shoulder ramming straight, the purple-eyed deity hit Scáthach dead-center, knocking both of them to the ground. A fist flew into Scáthach's face, a right cross that sent stars into her vision. Another fist slammed into the magenta-haired woman's cheek, snapping her head to the left. The goddess kept raining down heavy handed punches onto the stunned witch. In a moment of sudden clarity, Scáthach shot her hand up and gripped Mórrígan by the throat.

With more leverage, the warrior-woman punched her foe in the gut repeatedly, keeping her grip strong on the deity's neck. With a massive heave, the two were flipped, with the goddess landing on her back and Scáthach picking up Gáe Bolg from where it had fallen. Just as the spear was sent toward Mórrígan's throat, the witch found herself being thrown back by an invisible force that impacted her. Rolling head over heels she lost her grip on Gáe Bolg before she came to an ungraceful stop.

Both combatants took a moment to stare at one another, with Scáthach brushing herself off and standing up, while Mórrígan did a kick-up from her position on the ground, landing on her feet cleanly. Scáthach calmly walked to where she had dropped her spear, picking it up without taking her eyes off of the goddess standing ten feet from her. Just as the witch straightened up, spear in hand, the amethyst-eyed deity rushed her position with impressive speed.

' _Fast.'_ Scáthach thought as she twirled out of the way of a right jab to her chest. The goddess didn't stop her assault, keeping well within the witch's guard and throwing a mass quantity of controlled punches and kicks. Without losing her stride, Scáthach moved like water through the barrage of attacks that were sent her way, never letting one land on her in fear of debilitation. Just because the Goddess of Fate _looked_ like a teenage girl, didn't mean that she hit like one.

Most of the attacks that were being sent her way would probably be strong enough to bruise her skin and maybe even lightly damage the tissue beneath. While they wouldn't be life-threatening injuries, if enough of blows landed on her, she would eventually slow in her own assault. Fatigue and sluggishness would only facilitate her own downfall in a fight against a divine entity. It was a shame then, that Scáthach knew there would be no use in attacking with the curse of Gáe Bolg. Having fought and killed three gods before, she understood that most gods had a way to avoid the spear's attack, usually in the way of teleportation. If a god were to teleport away from the attack in time, then there would be no way for Gáe Bolg to pierce their hearts. If she wanted to use her spear's ability, she would first need to wear The Morrígan down so she couldn't teleport away at the first sign of trouble.

As the rapid assault of fists and feet continued, Scáthach searched for an opening in her opponent's guard. Moving back a few inches from a punch that came close to clipping her chin, the witch found Mórrígan had left her ribs open. Choking the grip on her spear, the warrior-woman brought the shaft up to the goddess' right side. Mórrígan was unable to move in time and therefore took the heavy strike with no grace, leading to her stumble. Capitalizing on the mistake made, Scáthach pushed her foot forward and into the path of Mórrígan's own. The deity tripped and fell, but caught herself with her hands and twisted in the air. The goddess performed something akin to a handstand before pushing herself into the air with her arms as she leaped over the swing that Scáthach had made with Gáe Bolg.

The Morrígan landed in a crouch as her opponent took the time to move on the offensive. Scáthach pushed forward, swinging and swiping as her spear became a red blur. The witch twirled her spear around and slammed it into the ground, using her upper body strength to lift herself off the floor. Scáthach flipped through the air and spun around once as she swung her spear down on her foe. The raven-haired goddess moved away from the attack just as it crashed into the ground where she once stood.

"I do believe that our time here is coming to a close," Mórrígan stated as she stuffed her hands in her pockets. "By now your little boy toy should be dead, and Crom Cruach will have completed the gateway."

Scáthach stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the goddess with a hint of worry in her eyes. "The… gateway? No, you were… weren't you? Oh, gods no…"

Mórrígan snorted derisively. "Did you really think that we wouldn't know that you would come here to try and stop the ritual to complete the gateway? Now, I don't actually mind telling you this since it's too late, but you were tricked. You left your companion back with that monster of a god and came here to face me instead."

The witch grit her teeth once she realized that she had been fooled. "I don't understand. Why the hell do you need to open a portal to the Land of the Dead if you already converted the souls here in the Astral Plane for that same gateway? Why not just use these souls for your army?"

"Is that what you think? That we want to create a gateway to the Land of the Dead? Please, you think too small. We looked beyond the souls of worthless humans. We've got bigger goals than that. Lugh and The Dagda both agreed with this plan as well. Soon, our pantheon will be granted the respect that it deserves in the new world order!" Mórrígan cried out with joy. She raised her hands in the air. "You should come a rejoin your people, otherwise we _will_ treat you like an enemy."

"Lugh? The Dagda? No, they've faded already, I know that… how did you…" Scáthach muttered to herself before her eyes widened with realization. "A gateway to the Realm of the Faded… that's why you needed so much ethereal energy. You plan on bringing back the gods that faded from this plane of existence in the past. You're mad."

Mórrígan frowned and shook her head. "Spenta Mainyu doesn't care about our individual goals, as long as we help him with his he does the same for us. It was his own plan to bring back these faded deities, and what a marvelous plan it was. All he wants to do is kill Angra Mainyu and wipe out humanity. He might very well be insane, but I assure you the rest of us gods aren't. We can always bring humans back to the earth in order to worship us, and if Spenta Mainyu interferes in that instance… well, even he can't stand up to the combined might of the Celts!

I've entertained you enough. Crom should have finished the gateway by now, why don't you and I watch the rebirth of the Celtic power. While we're at it I suppose I should send my familiar to collect the soul of that boy that you came with. I never did catch his name, what was it again my dear witch?"

An image started to appear in a mist-like substance that gathered near the goddess. The picture was a top-down view of what appeared to be the center of a nuclear warhead detonation, with a massive crater and several large trees toppled over. There were other holes and scars in the earth surrounding the largest crater, showing that there had been several more devastating attacks launched. The picture seemed to focus on two figures who were moving faster than even Mórrígan and Scáthach could see. The goddess and the witch blinked as they saw a flash of light followed by a large wooden stake shooting up from the ground. The two figures stopped and clashed against one another as the ground shook beneath their exchange.

Both women looked on in shock at seeing Crom Cruach being pushed back by the rapid slashes delivered by Percy Jackson. The god received a variety of cuts to his body as he moved and attempted to avoid most of the attacks. Percy moved faster than Scáthach had ever seen him move before, and she narrowed her eyes, realizing that he must have held back on her in his training sessions, something that she would address when they left Scotland.

"How…?" Mórrígan whispered as she stared at the image before her. "A mortal… delivering wounds to Crom Cruach? That's…"

"That's my student, Perseus Jackson, my pride and joy in this age," Scáthach stated with satisfaction evident in her voice. Her eyes filled with nothing but delight as she watched her new student fight back an extremely powerful god such as Crom Cruach.

Mórrígan looked at the witch with some surprise, before turning her attention back to the image of the battle. "It doesn't matter. Crom will finish the gateway, even if the… _mortal_ … doesn't die." The goddess said dismissively. "Oh look, Crom is about to assume his divine form."

Before the amethyst-eyed deity could react, Scáthach carved a series of runes into the ground under her. With a rapid slash, the witch cut her palm and let the blood drip on the runes, causing the carvings to glow a bright green. Just as the goddess turned toward the witch, a bright flash forced her to cover her eyes. When she looked back, she was alone in the vast expanse of the Astral Plane.

* * *

 _Percy and Crom Cruach…_

Time seemed to slow down as Crom began to emit an incredible amount of energy from his body. Percy knew what was coming, and he also knew that there was only one thing he could do fast enough to stop himself from being atomized on the spot. He cursed softly to himself as he thought about doing the right thing, realizing that he should have been more prepared for that scenario. Raising his sword to his face, the son of Poseidon rapidly slashed a line across his eyes, mutilating himself once again.

His sight was immediately stolen from him, and he cried out in pain as blood flowed freely out of his ruined eyes. The curse of vitality healed the wounds just to where the blood stopped. Just as he finished his partial healing, the former demigod felt the power explode outwards from Crom Cruach as he assumed his divine form. Percy stretched his senses out, using an incomplete version of Eye of the Mind in order "feel" the area around him. Without the ability to use Eye of the Mind, unfinished as it was, he would have nearly no chance fighting against any god should they assume their divine form in combat. Luckily for him, he had been given some instruction in the technique by Muramasa for a couple of years in Purgatory, even if it had never been developed to the point of complete proficiency.

As it was now, he could effectively "feel" when danger was near him, as well as large quantities of energy, though nowhere near the level that he would have been able to were his technique complete. Percy prepared himself as Crom seemingly disappeared from where he once stood. The former demigod dodged to the left as his instincts screamed at him to move. The sword of his foe passed by where he once stood. Percy turned around quickly and swung his own sword, creating massive shock waves as he did. Crom teleported away once again, only to reappear behind Percy again. Whirling around, the son of Poseidon locked his blade with his foe's, struggling to move against the strength that was being put on display.

' _Amazing. So this is the power of a deity in their divine form.'_ Percy mused as he blocked another one of Crom's swings. The blow caused his arms to buckle slightly under the pressure, but he held strong against the force that was attempting to overpower him. The two continued to exchange trades, with Crom Cruach constantly teleporting around Percy in an effort to confuse the young man. For his part, the son of Poseidon held steady against the onslaught that never seemed to end as his foe sent hundreds of slashes at him. While before the former demigod had become stronger than the deity thanks to the curse of sacrifice, the odds had evened now that Crom was in his divine form.

Percy bent backward as the blade of his foe passed over his nose, shaving a bit of the tip off. The curse-bearer shot back up and swung his sword at where he thought Crom was. The god raised his sword to block, only to be caught in the feint that Percy successfully performed. Crom was shocked to see Percy spin around on his foot and change directions almost in an instant. With no time to move his blade into a better position, the god attempted to jump back, but was still given a debilitating slash across his left arm. Algos cut deeply into the appendage, lacerating the muscles and tendons in the upper part of Crom's arm.

Ichor splattered Percy's face as he cut through the artery and even into the humerus. The god growled as he kicked Percy away. The young man staggered back several paces and raised his sword once more, his unseeing eyes roving over the entire battlefield.

Crom could freely admit that he was thoroughly impressed by the man that stood before him. Their fight had taken up the better part of twenty minutes, and in that time the mortal had forced him to use all of his domains at least once in order to keep the fight even. Not only that, but Crom had been basically forced into his divine form just to compete with his opponent's monstrous physical attributes.

' _Simply incredible. This mortal is far from normal. His blood may be tainted, but he is a being of immense power. Perhaps I should complete the gateway now that has blinded himself.'_ The god thought, backing away slowly.

Percy didn't seem to notice his movements, and as such the silver-haired deity planted his sword into the earth. He clapped his hands together and dropped down slamming them onto the ground. A tremor of massive proportions rocked the landscape around the two combatants. From the earth, twelve bronze statues of immense size appeared. Each statue was around three-hundred feet in height, and nearly fifty feet across. The statues formed two columns and six rows behind the multi-pupil deity that summoned them.

Each statue represented a different symbol of the zodiac. Representing Taurus was a bull with sharp pointed horns. Aries was presented as a goat that had curled in horns that spiraled around its head. Next in the column came Gemini, which was a statue of a naked woman with two faces. Then came Cancer, made apparent by a giant crab with its pincers pointed skyward. Leo followed suit, being a massive lion that was roaring at the sky. The final statue in the first column was a woman holding a pithos on her head, representing Virgo. The next column started with a blindfolded woman holding a set of scales, both evenly balanced, standing for Libra. Behind Libra came Scorpio, shown as a scorpion standing on its back legs pointing its body to the heavens. Next was Saggitarius, immortalized in bronze as a centaur wielding a bow. Third to last stood Capricorn, half-fish, half-goat, laying on its stomach. Penultimately was Aquarius, represented by a woman carrying water in her hands. Finally, Pisces, a massive statue of a bronze fish standing straight up. Nine of the twelve statues had fire burning within their eyes, while Pisces, Aquarius, and Capricorn did not, with steam wafting out of their blank, devoid eyes.

Crom Cruach stared at the three statues that had no fire in them, a frown forming on his normally attractive face. He turned to face Percy, who was frowning himself, not sure what to do now that Crom wasn't attacking him. The god moved forward, causing the son of Poseidon to tense and raise Algos to parry any straight-forward attack.

"I should be far more upset that you managed to take three of my lives from me. Yet for whatever reason, I can't bring myself to dislike you. Do you want to know why?" The god asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Couldn't care less admittedly," Percy shot back with apathy.

Crom chuckled and shook his head. "It's because you're so amazing. You, a mortal, have matched me, a divine being, blow for blow. You killed me three separate times, and you've forced me to use my divine form in order to match _you_! Do you understand? I, a god, was forced to assume my ultimate power, which would cause lesser beings to disintegrate within my very presence, in order to be on par with _you_ , a mortal man. I would have been offended had you not proven yourself such a worthy opponent. To think that a swing of your sword could reshape the terrain on such a grand scale…"

"I hope you aren't trying to flatter me, because while you are a very beautiful man, I have to politely decline whatever you're going to offer me. As I said, you're gorgeous, but I've already established myself as a man who very much enjoys the intimate company of the opposite gender. Sorry if that hurts you in any way," Percy said seriously.

"Ah, and your wit is sharp. I like it. Alas, we'll have to part ways soon. My accomplice would like me to finish the gateway, and I do believe that the time has come as well. She's finished transferring all that ethereal energy to this area, meaning that this shouldn't take more than a minute." Crom replied as he clapped his hands twice.

Percy frowned at the implications, wondering why he was speaking of finishing the gateway. A wayward thought crossed his mind of Scáthach being defeated by her opponent in Otherworld. Surely his mentor wouldn't lose in such a situation. No, he refused to accept such an idea, knowing that it was him who sent her on her way. If she had been hurt, or killed, then the blame would be on him for not following her instruction and making his way to the fortress. As terrifying as the thoughts were, the former demigod had to push them to the side. He couldn't afford to become distracted when fighting a deity such as the likes of Crom Cruach.

For a moment, he was tempted to heal his eyes so that he could see once more but knew that doing so would be something akin to suicide. It would be nigh impossible to avert his eyes from Crom's form for the duration of the fight. Eventually, he would slip and see the god in his divine form, causing his inevitable combustion, something that Percy was partial to avoiding.

Before he could do anything, though, there was a massive amount of energy that built up in the immediate area. The energy felt pure, clean, like mountain run-off water that was simply begging to be tasted. It felt like the higher mysteries of the universe were being held right in front of Percy, as if the energy somehow held the power of creation itself. Percy inferred that what he was feeling was the ethereal energy that Crom had been speaking of.

The god himself stared at the pillar of purple energy that was emanating from in between the two columns of statues. The energy that the souls had once been now swirled with untold power a dozen feet from where he stood. The glow from the pillar was nearly blinding as it pulsed several times, starting off slowly before its tempo increased. Soon, the flashing of light reached mind-numbing levels as Crom was forced to look away from the pillar. Eventually, the light died down, and the pillar collapsed in on itself, the purple energy dissipating into the air as if it were never there.

In the place of the pillar stood fifteen beings of divine nature. Percy felt each of their energy signatures as soon as they had appeared on earth. The massive amount of ethereal energy had disappeared, but where it once was there was a now substantial amount of godly power. Each signature had a distinct flavor, and two of those signatures were far above the rest. The son of Poseidon took a step back when the beings all moved toward Crom Cruach. The fight was practically lost now that more gods had arrived on the scene. Two of the new arrivals felt incredibly strong, not unlike Crom.

The silver-haired deity looked at the two foremost gods who were walking toward him. One of them was dressed in a white dress shirt and black pants. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, and his golden blonde hair was slicked back. The god had small blue suns burning in his eyes with no pupil to speak of. The other god was a tall man, nearing seven-and-a-half feet, dressed in a green hoodie with a picture of a flower on the front. He wore jeans and green converse on his feet, and his hair was brown and cut short. The man had no iris or pupil to his eyes, with them being only a milky white color.

Crom stared at Lugh and The Dagda, two of the most important deities in Celtic Mythology as they approached him. The minor gods followed behind them, though Crom didn't cast them a second glance as he focused on the more powerful of the lot.

"Crom Cruach," The Dagda spoke first, his voice deep and grave. The two gods stared at one another for a few moments, before The Dagda nodded his head and turned his attention toward Percy. "Who is this child?"

The silver-haired god sighed and gave a small shrug. "He's the mortal that's been keeping me busy for the past thirty minutes. The boy is strong, and I'm tired of fighting, so somebody else can take him." With that said, he reverted back to his mundane form.

"This mortal has given you so much trouble that you would use your divine form? Truly?" Lugh asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Hey, if you want to fight him be my guest. The kid's tough as nails and he would make a formidable ally. Hell, if he was made a god right now I'm not sure we would be able to beat him all together. The power he's displayed being just human is disgusting and awe-inspiring at the same time." Crom said with a hint of respect coloring his tone.

The Dagda stepped forward. Percy readied himself, but before conflict could erupt once more his instincts screamed at him to put as much distance from the group of gods as he possibly could. Heeding his gut feeling, the former demigod dashed back, covering the span of nearly two-hundred meters with a few steps. A second later the area erupted in a blinding explosion, kicking up dirt and wind as it destroyed everything in its path. Percy felt the winds wash over him even where he stood, and he coughed as dust was blown toward him. The son of Poseidon decided that it was safe enough to heal his eyes. Enduring the pain that came with it, along with the mental strain, Percy blinked several times to clear the blurriness out of his vision. Finally, things came back into focus, and Percy saw his companion standing a few feet away from him, arms crossed and staring at the dying flames of a massive fireball that lingered in the distance.

"Scáthach," Percy said softly. The woman turned around and walked toward him.

"We need to leave. That attack was powerful, yes, but those gods won't be injured for too much longer." The witch said as she took his hand and ran with him away from the battlefield.

"Wait! Scáthach, what happened? The gateway-?"

"It was a trick," The woman said as they ran. "Crom Cruach was always the one who would be opening the gateway. But it wasn't a gateway to where we originally thought it was. They opened a portal into the Realm of the Faded and brought back many gods, as you already saw."

Percy cursed as they sprinted into a part of the forest that Crom Cruach had created. The area hadn't been touched by the battle between the god and Percy, making it a dangerous area since it was still part of his domain. Percy dematerialized Algos and pulled his arm away from Scáthach. The two ran through the forest for some time before they finally made it out and onto the open plains once more.

* * *

Eventually, the duo stopped to rest in a town called Broadford when the sun had already set. Scáthach had already attempted to contact Angra Mainyu multiple times while they had been running, hoping that he would teleport them somewhere else. However, it seemed that wherever the God of Evil was, he had his own problems to worry about since the two had spent hours traversing the Isle of Skye. The two had shopped for new clothes and were on the prowl for proper lodging.

"How about there?" Scáthach asked, pointing at a two-story hotel. She and Percy had decided to stay the night in Skye while they waited for Angra Mainyu to transport them. It was unfortunate that the pendants they received were one-way prayers instead of a real communications device. Percy made a mental note to ask about making the pendant two-way so that they could at least get a response from the deity, even if it would be a short one.

"That looks fine. Honestly, I just want a place to lay down and sleep for the next year or so," The former demigod responded, exhaustion evident in his posture and voice. "Do you have any way to pay for our stay? And maybe some food too?"

In response, the witch dug around her back pocket and procured a credit card, flashing it at her student. "Always come prepared. Come on, let's get inside."

After finding the room that they rented, the two warriors made their way inside. Upon seeing the bed, Percy collapsed on his back, sighing deeply as he felt the soft material cushion his fall. The room they were staying in wasn't particularly large, though there was enough space to move around with two or three people comfortably. There was only one queen size bed with a white comforter and a heavy purple quilt on top of the mattress. There was a desk near the large bay window. The orange curtains were drawn, and the lights were dimmed low. The bathroom was close to the entrance of the room, just off to the left.

Scáthach sat down beside where Percy was lying. The young man cracked open one of his sea-green eyes and watched as Scáthach took off her leather jacket, leaving her in the white blouse that she had come with. While she had been completely blood free, Percy had not been, and the witch had bought him a plain blue t-shirt and a pair of new jeans as soon as they had found a store in Broadford. The son of Poseidon had changed in the store while the woman who had helped them simply took the tags and charged them at the register.

Percy closed his eyes again, only to open them again when he felt a weight settle around his waist and midsection. The former demigod sighed when Scáthach straddled his body, one leg on either side of his body. She stared down at him, her magenta hair falling around them, forming a thin curtain for their faces from the outside world. The woman placed one arm on each side of his head and slowly lowered herself to where her nose was touching his. Their eyes met, simply staring at one another for some time.

"I thought I had killed you," Percy admitted as he looked away, biting his lip. "I thought something had happened at the fortress and that Mórrígan had beaten you. I…" He trailed off and gave her a small smile. "Thanks for being alive."

Scáthach looked at him with a smile of her own, before it turned into a small frown. Her brow scrunched in concern while she spoke. "I thought the same thing. Mórrígan made me doubt your ability to fight a god such as Crom Cruach. I… I was afraid that I had sentenced you to death. Then when I saw that Crom was about to assume his divine form…" She chuckled. "Have I ever told you that you're amazing? Fighting a god in his divine form is something that not even I can claim to have done. Not only that, but you survived and even managed to wound him. So thank _you_ for being alive."

Percy gave her a lopsided smirk. "Well, you know me. Badass extraordinaire." His smile dropped and he gave the woman a serious look. "Will they come after us? Is it really wise to stay here?"

Scáthach shook her head. "I'm not sure. The last attack I used with Gáe Bolg probably wounded them slightly, but it wasn't enough to do lasting or serious damage. If they wanted to they could have already caught up to us at the pace we were setting getting here. I don't think they care at this point. They'll probably try and consolidate their power with whatever Celtic deities that remained here and that never faded before they act."

With a tentative nod of his head, Percy breathed out a sigh of relief. "That's good. Listen, I think I'm going to go to sleep. I'm exhausted, and I'm dead inside. I'll probably pass out any second. Truthfully, I was pushing the limit of the amount of pain I could handle back there. A few more devastating hits and I might have gone into shock."

Scáthach's eyes narrowed a bit at the admission and she nodded her head. She looked at Percy intensely, before moving down and planting her lips on his. She moved her lips slowly against his own, which were only barely moving. Taking initiative, the scarlet-eyed woman opened her mouth a bit wider and let her tongue brush Percy's mouth. There was a moment of hesitation, but Percy eventually gave into the witch's demanding nature. He coiled his tongue with hers and moved it in union against her own. Percy moved his hands to her back and pulled her closer to his body.

She allowed her body to fall onto his. Her chest and groin pressed down on him, permitting more heat to pass between the two. Finally, it was Percy who pulled away from the kiss, letting out a small sigh as the two parted. Scáthach opened her eyes and let them linger on his face, she bent back down and placed a series of slow kisses on his neck, making her way up to his jaw with no haste. The son of Poseidon stared at the ceiling until his vision was blocked by scarlet eyes.

"I'm sorry for leaving you behind."

The young man shook his head with a small amount of amusement. "I told you to go ahead. You couldn't have known what would happen."

Scáthach let her face relax slightly, but there was still some concern in her eyes. She rolled off of him and lay down next to his body on her side. Percy turned his head to look at her and noticed that she had a serious expression carved on her visage.

"We'll talk more about you holding back in training tomorrow. If I had known that you were so strong and fast, I would have given you over to Muramasa for more training with the Eye of the Mind, and you might have mastered it by now. I realize that you probably didn't want to injure me too much or get injured yourself, but I need to know your full ability set otherwise I can't decide the best thing for you. For now, though, get some sleep, you've earned it."

With a nod, Percy received one last peck on the lips before he pulled the sheets over himself.

' _I'd always wondered how it would feel to kiss her. Guess fighting an ancient deity in his divine form does have perks.'_

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **(1) Tech Duinn: House of Donn, a place for the dead much like Elysium in Greek Mythology.**

 **(2) Donn: God of the dead in Irish Mythology. Son or foster-son of The Dagda in some mythological stories.**

 **(3) The Dagda: Important god in Irish Mythology. Commonly associated with Fertility, Life and Death, Wisdom, Strength, Weather, and Magic.**

 **(4) Lugh: Important god in Irish Mythology alongside The Dagda and The Morrigan. Often interpreted as a god of Skill, Oaths, Law, and the Sun. Father of Cu Chulainn.**


	9. Fulcrum of a Confused Hero

**A/N: Chapter 9 is here. Thanks to all those who Followed/Favorited/Reviewed. Support is always appreciated when you write for fun.**

 **Pairings are now final! Congratulations to Hestia, Annabeth, and Scathach for being voted for above all others. Along with Thalia, they will be involved with Percy as he goes through his new journey. It will take some time to build a few of the relationships I'm sure, but I'll try my best to make them satisfying and semi-believable at the same time, which means that things won't always be smooth sailing.**

 _ **Reviews:**_

 **Nebular Reaper- I'm glad that the chapter was worth the wait. It would be neat-o if writing fanfic was my job and sole responsibility, seeing as how its pretty fun, but alas, I can only try to get chapters out in a timely manner. Thanks for the review and your kind words!**

 **impatientkid- I'm glad my writing had such an effect on at least one person. I don't think there is going to be a main girl and the "side" girls who come second to the main. With the way that Percy is, I picture him as a guy who would do his damnedest to make each girl feel like the main girl. I'll do my best to make sure that each are given their fair share of the love. I don't plan on having Algos have a secondary function other than to just cut and kill. I thought about it, and as fun as the idea sounded of having Percy go Bankai or use a Cero with Algos, I wanted to make it so that he had a distinct disadvantage at range. That way he actually isn't an all around great fighter, making him rely on others from time to time. He'll still be killing fools left and right, but he's already a god-tier close-combat fighter. Adding giant, country leveling ranged attacks just makes him too well-rounded for my taste. Thank you for the kind review!**

 **Kazzaaaaaaa- Welp, here we have it for both of your statements.**

 **Legacy of Olympus- Thank you for your kind words.**

 **dar4452- Thank you for the review!**

 **sirGLOCKsalot- I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter!**

 **NONAME2002- I would like to answer that by saying that Crom Cruach, in this story, is more powerful than any single Olympian. He is an ancient god from before their time, and Percy was able to land three killing blows on him, which while not finishing Crom, would have been fatal for most other gods that didn't have the ability that Crom did. (That ability will be explained in the story further along). A roundabout way of answering I know, but still. In other words, Percy can take on any Olympian or Titan, even in their divine form for some time. Should they underestimate him, they will more than likely die, however, no fights are ever set in stone, considering how many factors go into each battle, including the gods domains. For example, a god with control over gravity would have better chances than a god that could control fire for example, considering how distinctive the control of gravity is and how many applications it has. Final answer, he can get to near protogenos-tier in terms of physical attributes, but since he has no cool domain, it really depends on his opponent if he'll even be able to fight for long.**

 **Just Phatom- Well fret not, because Scathach is gonna be there anyway, along with Hestia!**

 **Shigure Toshiro- Thanks for the kind words!**

 **Raceman1234- Thank you for the review!**

 **blurrybenjamin- Romance is a yes, as I said the pairings were finalized this chapter with them being Hestia, Annabeth, Scathach, and Thalia. Lemons are still up in the air. There will more than likely be a slice of lime, but I'll see about the lemons.**

 **spnaph- Yes, finally getting around to the romance! Only 100k words in! I'm glad that you're learning a bit more about the different cultures of the world through my fic! And sassy!Percy will be here to stay for the foreseeable future. I do love writing that persona, especially since I feel Percy has always been sassy. Thanks for the review!**

 **To all the guests- Thanks for your kind words and reviews!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own or make any money off of this work of fanfiction. All rights for the characters in Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus go to Rick Riordan and all who were involved in the creation of the novels.**

* * *

9\. Fulcrum of a Confused Hero

* * *

 _Tartarus… 6 Years Prior…_

Percy and Annabeth stared at the massive canyon of red-tinted rock that extended before them. The air was a mix of red and gray, which only got thicker as they looked upward. The "ceiling" to Tartarus couldn't be seen from where they stood now, and both of them wondered just how far it really was from the bottom to the top. That was also ignoring the fact that it felt like they had fallen for days―or perhaps it had been only minutes―and that they had no way of knowing where in Tartarus they were. Certainly, nobody had given them a map prior to their excursion. Hell, Percy wasn't sure that anybody ever even _made_ a map. Most of the inhabitants of Tartarus were monsters, who didn't think too much more than to fill their stomachs with delicious demigod flesh. Some had a semblance of higher IQ, but they too were still just base creatures.

If there were any beings in Tartarus that had thought of making a map, it would have been some of the Titans. Kronos especially came to the forefront of Percy's mind. The Titan King definitely seemed like one who could see the strategic value of carrying around directions in a place so hellish.

"P-Percy… we… we have to get down there…" Annabeth wheezed, her breathing becoming labored as she spoke. Percy too understood what she was suffering. His chest felt tight, like somebody had stuffed his lungs full of pudding. The constricting feeling was overwhelming, and the son of Poseidon was sure that if Annabeth hadn't been there to help push him onward, he would have drowned in the Cocytus as soon as they had landed. It would have been humorous to see on his gravestone―should he get one. _Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, died drowning._

Percy coughed several times, holding a hand over his mouth as he did. When he pulled it away, he saw the appendage stained red. Tasting the coppery-tint of blood, the demigod wiped his lips with his arm. "Get down… down there? We'll have… to scale the side… of the canyon…"

Annabeth nodded with apprehension in her eyes. It was clear to Percy that she was just as nervous about doing so as he was. Whatever her reasoning, he figured that the daughter of Athena must have had some kind of plan in mind. She wouldn't risk such a dangerous maneuver for nothing. With a look of anxiety crossing his face, Percy took her hand in his. He gave her a firm nod, though his visage was still tainted with consternation at the idea of making their way down such a sheer descent.

"The river… is important?" Percy croaked, his throat felt like he had swallowed a handful of rocks. One look at his girlfriend and he saw that there were more angry red welts growing on her skin. They grew all over his own skin as well―every inch that was exposed to the noxious air of Tartarus at least. There was a rash forming on her face, and her eyes looked bleary and disoriented as if she couldn't get a grip on what was real and what wasn't. Admittedly, he felt the exact same way. He was having a difficult time concentrating on their task, and the longer that they lingered in the tainted air of Tartarus, the more he forgot why he was still fighting in the first place.

The blonde-haired girl nodded once more, her sweaty and disheveled hair bobbing along with her head. "The Phlegethon… come… we'll talk as we go down…"

Percy couldn't recall a river called the Phlegethon or what its significance was, but if Annabeth was risking falling to her death for it he assumed that it was important. He followed her lead as they approached an area that granted them a way to descend into the canyon and down to the riverbed. He swayed a bit on his feet as he stared down at the 80 foot drop down to the ground below them. As a son of Poseidon, it was only natural for him to be apprehensive of being in high places.

Lowering himself against the edge of the cliff, he began the slow climb down. The glassy rock cut into his palms as he put weight on them, and he had to bit his lip from crying out. Before Annabeth could start her own descent he warned her to find a way to cover her hands. She complied and ripped off parts of her shirt, tying the scraps of cloth to give her some protection from the sharp rock.

"Thanks… for the… warning…" Annabeth grunted as she nearly lost her grip on a particularly loose handhold. Percy looked up toward her, and saw that her bad leg was giving her problems while she placed her weight on it. So distracted was he that the demigod slipped on a narrow foothold, leading to more pressure being applied to his hands as he supported his body with only his arms.

"Percy!" Annabeth cried out, seeing that he had nearly fallen to his death.

"I'm okay…" The teen called out, breathing a sigh of relief when his foot found another place. He continued his descent, wiser to his surroundings now that he had almost left the mortal plane. "Do… you think… people that die… down here… stay down… here… in soul form…?"

Annabeth didn't respond for some time, and the son of Poseidon wondered if the subject was too dour to broach at the moment. After all, if one of them did die in Tartarus, the other would more than likely hate to leave their soul down in the worst place for a demigod to stay. Yes, he decided not to ask such morbid questions in the future, knowing full well that it would only lower moral for both of them.

It took some time, but eventually the duo had scaled their way down the sheer cliff face. Percy almost fell down from the sheer exhaustion that spread through his entire form when he reached the ground. He would have too, had the ground not been made of small chips of obsidian sharp enough to cut him. Instead, he opted to lean against the cliff face, letting out a deep breath, causing him to start a coughing fit. Annabeth joined him on the ground seconds later, looking equally as drained as he felt. She motioned for them to walk to the flowing river made of fire that was now only twenty feet from their position.

Percy dragged his feet as he walked beside his girlfriend. The blonde placed her arm around Percy's shoulder, clearly attempting to support herself with his own body. The son of Poseidon gripped her waist with his left arm, also trying to steady himself as they walked. It was difficult to discern at that point who was supporting who, but it hardly mattered to the couple. As far as Percy was concerned, that was what their relationship was built on. Mutual strength. As long as they both stood, then they both could keep going.

Finally, after what seemed like a stretch of miles, but in reality took only fifteen to twenty steps, the two fell to their knees before the Phlegethon. Percy stared at the undulating orange fire, his head bobbing to the side on occasion as he simply watched the river flow by.

"...Cy… Cy… Ercy… Percy!" Annabeth's voice shocked him out of his self-imposed daze. Shaking his head, Percy cleared his thoughts as best he could.

"Sorry… what were you saying?" Percy asked hoarsely, looking at his blonde girlfriend with drooping eyes.

"Drink… only way to―" She interrupted herself with a violent fit of coughing, causing her to spit up blood onto the ground.

Percy frowned and looked at the river tepidly. He gave Annabeth a skeptical glance. "It's fire… how do… you want us to drink…?"

Annabeth looked slightly disgruntled as she too pondered the question. Soon enough, she made her decision and thrust her hands directly into the Phlegethon. Bringing her hands out she quickly downed the fire water, her face scrunching in disgust. Then, only a moment later, she collapsed on her back, convulsions taking her body. Percy reacted faster than lightning, his hands shooting out and grabbing hold of his girlfriend before she rolled into the Phlegethon. Tears streamed down her face and she was gagging and retching, her hands clasping her neck tightly.

Several seconds passed where Percy held onto Annabeth as her body seized in his arms. He looked at her worriedly, but before long she relaxed into his grip. Letting go of a relieved sigh, Percy pulled Annabeth away from the river, seeing that her eyes were still closed. Her breathing was calm, and the ugly red welts on her skin had all but disappeared. Knowing he had little time before he passed out, Percy took the chance and rushed to the river. He took a handful of the fire, ignoring the burning pain from his lacerated palms, and downed the "water" in one go.

Recalling his girlfriend's reaction to the orange liquid, the son of Poseidon threw himself haphazardly backward, hoping to get away from the Phlegethon before he started to convulse. There was a pain in his throat as the river "water" passed down his esophagus, searing its way into his stomach. He could feel it even as it coated the inside of his stomach, filling him with pain. True to form, Percy felt himself loose control of his body as he started to twitch uncontrollably on the ground, letting the sharp obsidian chips lacerate his skin.

Eventually, he regained control over his motor functions and rolled over, pushing himself up and off the ground. The raven-haired teen looked at Annabeth and noted that she was unconscious. He sighed heavily and walked over to her body. He knelt beside his girlfriend, lightly shaking her shoulder, hoping that she would wake up so that they could move. She would have a plan too, something that he desperately needed.

From the corner of his eye, the son of Poseidon saw movement. His eyes flickered around, instantly scanning for monsters in the vicinity. While it wasn't an ideal situation, he knew very well that he was on the monsters' home turf. Letting his guard down in Tartarus would be one of the biggest mistakes in his life. If he lived long after doing so that is.

He heard the sounds of scuttling, and before he knew what he was doing, he had Riptide out and uncapped. A hiss from behind was all the warning he got before he was assaulted by a creature with eight hairy legs and evil glinting eyes. He spun around and swung his sword, missing his attacker by mere inches. The spider-woman pounced on him after his near miss and knocked Percy off his feet. The son of Poseidon cursed as he dodged sharp claws that nearly tore into his face. He pushed his leg in between himself and the monster, then pushed her away with all the strength he had.

They separated, and Percy took the time to scramble to his feet, raising Anaklusmos.

Arachne stood several feet away from him, growling menacingly at the demigod. Percy backed up a little as Arachne scuttled forward. They didn't speak to one another, knowing that words would mean little in their current predicament. No matter how they looked at it, both of them were in Tartarus, and the only way to get out would be to make it to the Doors of Death. It didn't matter that Percy and Annabeth hadn't killed Arachne, she had still ended up in the Pit, and she was undoubtedly very angry.

The two circled one another for some time, eyes narrowed with both caution and hatred. Percy moved first, stepping up and sending an experimental slash toward his opponent. Arachne moved back, before swiping her front two legs at the demigod in an attempt to knock him down. He stepped to the side and tried to cut her extended legs clean off her body. The spider-woman was quick enough to retract her legs, avoiding having them severed. The air around Percy's Celestial Bronze sword hissed as it moved around Anaklusmos, almost as if the blade was anathema to it.

Arachne moved fast, nearly closing the gap between herself and Percy, forcing the demigod to swing rapidly in order to ward her off. The cursed woman growled at Riptide as it streaked through the air, forcing Arachne to move back. Percy took the movement as a sign of hesitation and charged her. The monster had time to look surprised before she felt the Celestial Bronze blade cut through her lower abdomen. Hissing in pain and anger, Arachne scuttled away, clutching her wounded gut. Percy didn't stop though, and grabbed a handful of the obsidian chips that littered the ground. Arachne didn't notice as he did, therefore she was caught by surprise when he threw the chips into her eyes. The monster was able to wail once at the pain of being blinded before Anaklusmos separated her head from her body.

Percy turned away from the dissolving form of Arachne and went to check on Annabeth, who had been a fair way away from the brief fight. He spotted her, still lying flat on her back, eyes closed and hair tousled around her. Taking long strides to reach her and kneeling beside his girlfriend, Percy placed the back of his hand against her forehead. Her breathing was steady and strong, indicating that she was at least healed from the poisonous air that Tartarus naturally produced, and the angry rash had faded some time ago.

The raven-haired demigod looked at her softly. He sat down beside her, hoping that she would wake soon so that they could continue moving.

"Well, well. What have I stumbled upon in this dreary place?"

Percy immediately spun around and stood up, drawing his sword once more in preparation for a fight. He came face to face with a man dressed in double-breasted burgundy suit coat with a dark shirt underneath and a blood red tie. His lower body was encased in a pair of black dress pants and on his feet were two-toned cream and black colored formal shoes. His white hair was swept to the left and his warm, chocolate colored eyes held a trace of amusement in them.

"Who are you?" Percy's voice called out, attempting to demand an answer, but even to him it sounded weak. With everything that had happened in such a short period of time, he found himself growing more despondent. He figured that in addition to the situation, that perhaps the River Cocytus was having a lingering effect on his demeanor.

The man walked toward him languidly, his movements efficient and yet unhurried. He had his arms placed behind his back, drawing Percy's suspicion. The demigod looked back at his girlfriend nervously as the white-haired stranger drew ever closer, worried about a fight breaking out so close to her prone body. If confrontation was inevitable, Percy would need to draw the stranger away from Annabeth so that all his attention could be focused.

The well-dressed man stopped walking, seemingly sensing Percy's discomfort with his proximity. Chocolate brown eyes drifted down to see the young woman unconscious and they lit up with understanding. Chuckling to himself, the god raised his hands and backed up a step.

"I'm not looking for a tussle kid. Just came down to have a stroll, then lo-and-behold, I find you and this girl by the banks of the Phlegethon, looking the worst for wear." The man stated calmly, his lips twitching into a small smile as he spoke. His eyes, while seemingly inviting and warm, held a depth to them that Percy was unsure he wanted to delve into.

Licking his dry lips, the demigod worked the courage to ask his question once again. "Who are you?"

The man smiled a bit wider at hearing the words escape Percy's mouth. "The name's Angra Mainyu; I'm pretty sure that I have a proposition that you'll find yourself hard-pressed to refuse."

* * *

Percy opened his eyes once more, his vision slightly obscured by the steam that wafted through the air of the bathroom. Water poured onto his body as he stood under the showerhead, allowing himself the reprieve of the heat. Shaking the memory of his first encounter with the God of Evil from his mind, the former demigod took the complimentary shampoo and began to lather his hair. It had been over six years since he had fallen into Tartarus with Annabeth, and he could still remember the sights and sounds as if it had happened only an hour prior. The sulfurous scent and the poisonous atmosphere would more than likely never leave his mind. Thankfully, he hadn't had many nightmares of his time in the Pit for some time.

If he could admit that Ahriman's training was good for something, then it would certainly be mental acuity. Percy's mental fortitude had increased dramatically since the end of the wars, thanks in no small part to the intense ―and highly disturbing― training that Percy had been subjected to. Even though he hated every step of the way, there was no denying that he had taken great leaps in the area. True enough, without the training, he would more than likely never have been able to utilize the curses that he bore.

Percy rinsed his hair thoroughly and turned off the water, stepping out into the bathroom proper and taking a towel. He dried himself quickly, knowing that he had spent far longer reminiscing of past events than cleaning himself, though that didn't lessen the overall change the amount of time that he had spent in the bathroom overall. He caught a glance of the grotesque scar that took residence on his chest, the one that he had been given courtesy of Gáe Bolg. A few other scars lingered on his body, though there weren't any nearly as horrid as the one inflicted during his first meeting with Scáthach. In actuality, he didn't have many scars from his time in Purgatory, even though he was injured more there than he ever was on Earth.

It was good that Angra Mainyu had the ability to heal most wounds completely, without scar tissue forming over them. Only the most horrendous of wounds, inflicted by the most dangerous of weapons would leave scars, thusly he had a few scars from Gáe Bolg that littered his body. That was before he gained his new curses though. With the curse of vitality he had yet to encounter a wound that he couldn't fully heal. Of course, the trade-off was immense, soul-crushing, identity rending, pain. Honestly, in Percy's opinion, it was a just payment for such a mortality-defying ability.

Of course if he were to be instantly killed then the curse would be invalidated. He needed to actively will his wounds to heal, otherwise the curse wouldn't be of any use. In other words, he needed to avoid anything that would cause severe brain injury and decapitation at all costs. Truly, even if his heart were destroyed he would more than likely be able to quickly heal it before he died of blood loss. That was if he didn't pass out from the shock of his blood pressure plummeting like a comet to earth. Either way, he tended to avoid normally fatal blows, and as long as he continued to do so, he would never have to test his heart theory.

Shaking off his macabre thoughts, the young man stepped out of the shower with his towel wrapped at the waist. Scáthach was planted in front of the small television sitting in the corner of the room. Percy ignored her for the moment, and went to pull on his clothes that she had bought for him the day prior. He took them back to the bathroom and changed there, before he made his way back out into the main room. Percy walked up behind Scáthach and looked over her shoulder to see what held her attention so tightly.

"... _That's right Emma, here we stand at what experts say is the epicenter of the massive explosion that occurred yesterday evening. Reports indicate that the explosion was likely caused by a buildup of methane gas or a similar substance under the crust of the earth_ _that was ignited. The explosion went on to cause an earthquake rated a five-point-eight on the Richter scale, along with a series of aftershocks that could be felt across all of Skye and even into mainland Scotland._ "

Percy blinked several times as he saw the camera pan away from the male reporter to show the devastated landscape that was all too familiar for him. He couldn't forget where he first fought an ancient god in his divine form, especially since it had taken place only sixteen hours prior. The land was pockmarked where he and Crom Cruach had clashed swords. He noticed that there was no more forest surrounding the area, and guessed that the silver-haired deity must have dropped his domain when the fighting ended. The camera then moved to show the largest of all the craters that gouged the earth, where he had "killed" Crom Cruach for a second time with an extremely powerful swing.

The son of Poseidon thinned his lips when the view changed to an overhead shot from a helicopter. Even though the trees and plants had vanished, the holes that had been a product of their growth still spread across the land. Add to those the craters that he had formed, and it looked like a veritable war zone. In essence Percy supposed that it _was_ a war zone. Perhaps the first battle in a new, long war that had the ability to shake the world to its foundations and beyond.

Suddenly, the screen of the T.V. when dark, and Percy turned to Scáthach to find the remote in her hand. The witch stood up and stretched her back, garnering a few pops from her spine as she did so. Turning around, she smiled when she saw Percy standing behind her.

"Glad to see that you made it out of the shower, my little princess. Did you enjoy the twenty-minute soak?" Scáthach asked playfully, much to Percy's ire.

The raven-haired man huffed and pinched her cheek lifting her face a little as he did so.

"Oaw, oaw, oaw, oaw! Pewccy, it huwts, it huwts, staop! Pweease!" The witch blubbered, trying to pry her face free from her companion's grasp. Percy swatted her feeble attempts away with a dark chuckle. He let go of her face, much to her pleasure, only to attack from the side and tickle her ribs. Scáthach gave an indignant squeak out as she threw herself away from Percy's hands. She landed on the bed and scrambled over the top of the mattress.

Once she made it to the other side of the room, the woman glared at Percy, her mouth twitching with displeasure. She went to say something, but thought better of it and simply huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Percy watched with amusement as the witch ignored him for a few moments, before she sighed heavily and shook her head, a small grin crawling onto her face.

"I hope you know that you'll be receiving retribution for that one of these days," The magenta-haired woman said wryly. "So, care to go grab a bite to eat?" The witch asked, changing gears almost immediately, something that Percy found admirable.

He nodded his head. "Sure, sounds good to me. Fighting a god can really help work up an appetite."

"We should have had dinner last night before we found a hotel," Scáthach mused, tapping her finger to her chin. Then she shook her head, allowing her hair to sway around her. "No, you were dead tired, and I don't think I would have liked picking you up out of your food had you fallen asleep at a restaurant."

Percy snorted and gave her sidelong glance. "Yeah, whatever. Let's just go, I'm starting to feel the gnawing in my gut."

Scáthach and Percy left the room and walked down the stairs. The receptionist was sitting in her spot behind the counter, looking bored as she scrolled through her phone. Scáthach strolled up to her and began to question the woman for good restaurants in the area. Percy simply sat down in a chair while the receptionist told his companion about the local eateries.

After a minute of discussion, the magenta-haired witch moved away from the counter and motioned for Percy to follow. Catching up to his companion just as she moved out the door, Percy walked alongside Scáthach as they exited the building. The duo walked down the sidewalk, and Percy noted that his friend took a deep breath of the cool air as they made their way to the restaurant. The son of Poseidon reciprocated the small smile that formed on Scáthach's face as she inhaled the bay air. Percy looked out from where they stood, taking in the view of Broadford bay, with the water gently rolling and undulating as the wind swept across it's surface. He craned his neck and looked behind the hotel building, seeing the large mountains that stood proudly behind the small village.

"So," Scáthach began as they crossed an intersection. "It seems that Angra Mainyu is held up in Iraq. I don't think he's fighting his brother quite yet, otherwise I'm sure that the news stations would be going crazy over whatever the fallout of their battle would be. Unfortunately, that does leave us with little options in terms of where to go next."

Percy nodded his head and pondered the situation. If Angra Mainyu was fighting against Spenta Mainyu, then there surely would have been some kind of collateral damage. That being said, the mortal news would certainly have picked up on it, and it more than likely would have made the headlines. Admittedly, Percy was afraid that a duel between the brothers of good and evil would lead to Iraq being wiped off the map, taking the lives of any mortal within range. But seeing as how that wasn't the case as of yet, the son of Poseidon wondered what Ahriman was held up by.

"Maybe he walked into a trap?" Percy inferred. "I mean, Crom Cruach and Mórrígan knew that somebody was on the way to try and stop them. That means that Spenta Mainyu must have guessed that somebody would have been sent to all four locations in order to halt progress on the portals. I wouldn't be surprised if he figured that his own brother would try and stop him in Persia."

Scáthach pushed her hands into her pockets and let her eyes close as they approached a quaint diner. Percy moved to the front and pulled open the door, holding it for his companion to walk through. With a grateful nod, Scáthach moved into the establishment, with Percy following shortly after her. The two were greeted by a man who led them to a table near the window, overlooking the bay. Seeing that it was only a quarter past ten, Percy sighed when he realized that asking for alcohol would be frowned upon. Or not, he supposed, since he wasn't very aware of cultural norms in Scotland. Deciding to play it safe, the former demigod ordered a glass of orange juice, just like Scáthach, along with eggs and sausage.

The waiter smiled and nodded, stating that he would get their orders placed. The man left, leaving Percy and Scáthach alone. Percy looked around and noticed that there weren't any people around them. A couple was seated further down the restaurant, but apart from them and the workers the diner was empty.

"Scáthach," Percy began slowly, mulling the words over in his mind before he spoke. "About last night-"

The magenta-haired woman stopped him with a raised hand. Percy looked at her expectantly, noticing the she was giving him a soft smile, though he could see a faint trace of disappointment in her expression.

"I think I know what you're going to say. You told me about how you still felt _something_ for both your blonde lover and that hunter of Artemis a few months ago remember?" Scáthach said, she looked out the window and stared at the image of Broadford Bay. After a moment, she returned her attention to the young man, who was giving her an apologetic look.

"Ah, yeah I do remember that now. I think I had a bit too much to drink one night and I came crawling into your room thinking it was mine," Percy responded with a vacant expression, though the corners of his lips were twitching upward in amusement as he recounted the night. "I then went ahead and made myself at home, flopping down on your bed… with you in it. If I recall correctly you proceeded to tease me about how easy it would be to take advantage of a helpless virgin such as myself, but at that point I was half gone and I just told you my fears of being rejected by Annabeth, and that I had no idea what to do with Thalia."

Scáthach gave him an entertained nod, her face splitting into a large grin as he spoke. "Yes, that is a vague reiteration, but fairly accurate nonetheless. And I can therefore understand why you would feel conflicted about kissing me last night. You feel like you at least have an obligation to give the blonde another chance seeing as how she helped save your life in the Cocytus. Not only that, but you also want to get your feelings for the hunter out of the way by confronting it directly and basically committing social suicide with her. To top it all off, you have some form of attachment to my own person for helping you become stronger while in Purgatory. Am I on the right track?"

The son of Poseidon scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Erm, yeah. You almost hit the nail on the head there. I… I don't want to give you some kind of wrong impression. The kiss… I mean it was amazing, I won't lie. But I can't commit myself to you ―you alone― right now Scáthach. Annabeth deserves another chance-"

"-Some may not see it that way. I certainly don't," Scáthach interrupted, garnering a small frown from her green-eyed companion. "You saved her life just as many times as she saved yours. You don't owe her anything. Sure she saved your life in the Cocytus and by telling you about the Phlegethon, but in return, you literally dragged her out of Tartarus on your own. You fought through a veritable _army_ of monsters in order to reach the Doors of Death, with her on your shoulder the whole time."

"You don't understand," Percy shook his head with conviction.

Scáthach gave him a withering glare, but Percy wouldn't back down. He didn't show any signs of displeasure, but he knew that she just couldn't understand that he really _did_ owe his girlfriend. It was who he was. In a way, he would always be loyal to Annabeth, and he knew that because of that, he would always be broken.

"I understand well enough, _Young Hero_ ," The witch said with steel in her voice. Scarlet eyes narrowed at him as her fingers clenched slightly, forming a fist with her right hand. Her lips thinned before she opened her mouth once more. "Your _loyalty_ will get you nowhere in this situation. You've paid your debts with blood. She doesn't deserve somebody who would stick by her side even when she refused to reciprocate that gesture."

"Don't bullshit me!" The former demigod hissed, finally having reached his boiling point. "What the fuck is your problem, _witch_?"

The woman almost recoiled at the venom in his voice, but she regained her composure quickly. She almost took a swing at the son of Poseidon, but reined herself in, knowing it best not to cause a scene. She ground her teeth together, losing the battle to keep from exploding on the young man seated across from her.

"What's my problem? My _problem_ , is that I almost got you KILLED yesterday!" Scáthach all but shouted, her fist slamming down onto the table, rattling the silverware and causing those in the diner to look toward her and Percy. She pointedly ignored the concerned glances and the disapproving eyes that roved over her, staring deeply into the sea-green eyes that had captivated her those five years ago. "My problem is that you refuse to see that your loyalty will be the death of you. My problem is that as much as I want to protect you from outside harm, I can't protect you from yourself damnit."

Percy took a breath in, and breathed it out heavily, blowing the air out through his nostrils. "It's war Scáthach. There are bound to be people who die."

"I refuse your death then."

The once-demigod felt something tug at his chest when he heard the words leave her mouth. He looked at her, his eyes softening exponentially as he saw her pained expression. She bit her lip and looked at the table. Tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, the woman glanced back at Percy's face. Before anything else could be said between them, their food came, carried by an uncomfortable looking waitress. Percy looked at the young woman with the name-tag that read _Sharon_.

Percy smiled at her, causing the woman to gain a bit of her confidence back. "I'm sorry about that. Don't let us scare you though. Just a small… disagreement."

Sharon nodded and placed their food down before she left hurriedly. Percy and Scáthach began to eat their food slowly, their previous discussion all but dropped. His hunger being the only thing that drove him to fill his stomach, Percy couldn't help but taste ash on his tongue.

* * *

Percy took a seat on the bench next to his magenta-haired companion. The two had finished their breakfast at a sedate pace, neither of them feeling particularly lively after the small argument that had erupted. From the diner, they had decided to walk through the small settlement and had ended up at a small gazebo overlooking the bay area.

It was odd for Percy, considering that he had never seen his mentor so upset over anything before. At least, not so _violently_ upset. True enough, the day past had seen her acting oddly due to her return to the Isle of Skye. Percy could understand the sentiment, though. When he thought of his own return to New York, seeing his Mom and Paul, along with the daughter that Sally had been carrying prior to his abduction, he was sure that it would be fairly emotional for him.

To add, he would also eventually meet with the campers and gods once again, though that as a whole was less anxiety inducing. There were a few specific people that he was especially perturbed interacting with, one of them being his girlfriend―if she hadn't moved on―and the other being his cousin who he _still_ hadn't managed to drive from his mind. If he was honest with himself, Percy wasn't too anxious about their reactions to knowing that he was now in league with Ahriman and of his newfound power, but more about how things had changed between them within the past half-decade. The dynamics would probably never be the same, he knew this, however, they had been changing ever since the end of the wars. After all, had he not developed a large romantic interest in Thalia, who was a hunter of Artemis, her lieutenant no less. Certainly, if events had unfolded differently in Tartarus, his whole life might have been much more simple.

Perhaps he would have gone on to live happily with Annabeth in New Rome, or perhaps something else would have happened that drove a wedge between them, leading to their eventual split. At least then he would have been far less contrite over his emotional investiture with Thalia, and how that certain path might play out in the future. As it stood, he felt stuck. He was in a bad situation, what with the plans of Spenta Mainyu being put into motion. The question of how to approach them was gnawing away, always hidden in the background thoughts that floated through his brain. Occasionally, he would remember the conundrum and focus his attention on finding a solution to the multiple outcomes that were possible between himself and the women that were apparent in his life, sans his mother.

If Annabeth was willing to continue with their relationship then he would jump at the opportunity. If not, then perhaps he could find something with somebody else. He was unsure of what Scáthach wanted if he were honest. They hadn't discussed exactly _what_ they kiss meant, if anything. Percy wasn't childish enough to believe that the _only_ person you kiss is the one that you love with all of your heart. People did far more just for the thrill―for the fun that it brought. He wasn't going to peer too deeply into a motive for what happened the night prior. That being said, he could freely admit that he thoroughly enjoyed doing what they had.

It had been exhilarating, to feel her body pressed close against his own, with her legs placed on either side of him. The electricity that ran up his spine when her tongue brushed against the inside of his mouth was nearly enough to make him shudder at the recollection. When she had slowly grazed her teeth over his neck, planting her soft lips against his throat and jaw, he had been just about ready to roll her over and start their activity all over again. Everything about her in that moment had jarred his mind out of it's previously numbed and exhausted state, though it had only fueled the guilt that had been building.

When regarding Thalia, however, the former demigod found himself in a much more difficult position. With Annabeth, and even Scáthach, there was a precedent of intimacy. Sure, there was guilt associated with both of them, more so than with Thalia, but Percy still felt uncomfortable when thinking about discussing what he felt towards her. They hadn't done anything that could be deemed as "inappropriate" for a man already in a relationship. Taking into consideration that he still had a straightforward, if somewhat neglectful, relationship with Annabeth when he and Thalia were bonding, it was definitely a good thing that nothing had happened. Now that things had gotten complicated, he felt that he had taken advantage of the situation and used it to partially justify the fact that he intentionally kissed Scáthach. While he wasn't the instigator, he didn't make any move against his mentor when she had locked lips with him. Percy knew that people reacted differently to infidelity, and many people had their own views on how severe the affair was depending on the nature of the acts done. Given that he and Scáthach had basically done something that even middle school children did, Percy was unsure of how Annabeth would react to the truth.

This was applying his implication that she still wanted to date him. If she didn't, then he more than likely wouldn't feel the need to even mention the incident. Whatever the case, he had to prepare himself to be rejected by the daughter of Athena. It would hurt, that was for sure, but he had no doubts that he could move on. Of course, even if she didn't want to continue where they left off, he would still protect her with fervor.

If Annabeth were to have moved on, or if she wanted to break off what they had, it would leave Percy in a whole new conundrum that he had no pleasure in debating over. His attraction toward the lieutenant of Artemis was undeniable, at least to himself. He doubted that anybody else knew of his feelings toward Thalia, not even herself. Percy liked to believe that there had been no signs of romantic inclinations after the wars and during his isolation. Even he hadn't truly considered himself to be so invested in the daughter of Zeus until he had been dragged in Purgatory by Angra Mainyu. It was only when he lost everything that was normal to him, did Percy realize just _what_ Thalia meant to him. He knew she was important, but there was a very fine line between a platonic relationship and a romantic interest. Somewhere along the way she had moved across the line.

It felt like he was in the middle of a gavelkind succession crisis. If he and Annabeth didn't work out, then he would feel conflicted in whether or not to pursue a romantic relationship with either Thalia or Scáthach. Between the two, he didn't know if they even _wanted_ to be with him in such a sense. He supposed that he was building up his own anxiety for the _chance_ that they would become romantically involved, yet he had no form of absolutes. He wasn't dealing with a well-known fact, but more a conceptual crisis that very well might never come to fruition.

' _I guess I should ask them before I develop an ulcer from worrying about it. Heh, maybe they'll both want to be with me. Now_ that _would be crazy.'_

He sighed out loud, leading to his companion noticing his troubled expression.

"Something on your mind?" Scáthach asked, crossing one leg over the other and placing her hands over her lap. She looked at Percy, who didn't take his eyes off of the lapping waves that brushed over the rocks near where they were. A few seagulls flew overhead, cawing loudly as they swept through the crisp, misty air.

"You could say that, yeah," Percy responded slowly, placing his arms on the back of the bench and breathing out deeply.

"Would you like to share?" The witch offered. Percy gave her a sideways glance from the corner of his eye. He wondered if broaching the subject would be appropriate given their situation. He doubted that there ever would be an "appropriate" time to discuss what was on his mind considering the war that was upon them. Then again, once it started in earnest there might not be much time to talk about it, if any at all.

He mulled the question over in his mind, licking his lips before he spoke. "I was wondering…" He trailed off, trying his best to not let his voice betray his emotions. "If that kiss meant anything. I know that it was a heat of the moment 'glad you're alive' kind of thing… but was there anything else to it? I'm probably reading too far into it, but still."

A soft, unhurried silence descended upon the two. The ambient noise of their location helped to dilute the minute that passed in which Scáthach hadn't answered. Percy had taken his arms off the bench and laid them on his legs, slouching forward where he sat. He stared at nothing in particular, allowing his vision to soak in the serene atmosphere that was painted in front of him.

Finally, Scáthach spoke, her voice strong, indicating that she had no discomfort toward the subject she was airing. "And if it did? Say that me kissing you designated that I harbored something for you. Would that change anything between us?"

"It depends," Percy replied softly. "How do you mean?"

Scáthach shook her head and moved closer to Percy on the bench. She twisted her torso so that her full upper body was facing his own. In response, the former demigod did the same, knowing full well that his companion was giving him her full attention, and that not responding in kind would be incredibly rude. They looked at each other for some time, Percy staring into the scarlet-red eyes that always seemed to enrapture him, no matter the situation. They conveyed so much, and yet so little, that it was painful at times to attempt understanding what hid behind them. Sometimes, he could peek past the veil and comprehend what Scáthach wanted, but more often than not, he would be lost in the sea of red that held his very body in place.

"I know that you have your own justifications for wanting to stay with the blonde architect. I _know_ that, but I just can't understand why. As such, I know that you will never involve yourself in an extra relationship while you are still with her. It's admirable, really. Though I would not have asked for that anyway," The witch paused and placed her hand on his jaw, letting her thumb brush against his chin, then moving up to touch his lips. She leaned closer to him, leading to Percy almost pulling back, but she stopped a few inches in front of his face. The air from her nose was easily felt on Percy's skin, as was the breath exhaled from her mouth when she spoke. "What I want to know is if you'll start avoiding me, or if my answer will strain our mutual friendship in any way."

The son of Poseidon gave Scáthach a small smile in return. He took her hand off of his face and moved it down, all the while holding it in his own. "No. Your answer wouldn't affect me in that way. I just wanted to know, so that I could properly plan for the future. My life is pretty complicated right now, but I wouldn't want to alienate a close friend because of something petty."

"I can empathize with that," Scáthach said with a nod. She pursed her lips, before giving Percy a wide smile, her eyes never leaving his own. "I'm glad I chose such a responsible man to teach… and to romantically pursue."

For his part, Percy swallowed thickly. He blinked a few times, nodding to himself and breathing out deeply. "So that's how it is then? I have to admit that I'm a bit surprised."

"You think too little of yourself then," The woman responded honestly, the smile never wavering from her lips.

Percy gave his companion a dry look. He idly played with her fingers that were still trapped in his hand. Running his thumb over her palm, which she allowed. Scarlet-red eyes drifted down toward the image of their hands, and she moved so that she could push her digits between his own, intertwining herself with him. The witch of Dún Scáith stared for a few moments longer, until she felt Percy's other hand move below her chin.

"You deserve to be with somebody who can really dedicate all of themselves to you," The former demigod intoned. His face was a mask of neutrality, no emotion was betrayed, even as he spoke. Scáthach had to praise him for being able to act so aloof when he wanted to. Undoubtedly it was a result of his training with the God of Evil.

"I know," Scáthach replied blithely, her face mouth twitching up and forming a smirk. "And I also know that you can be that man. More than that though, I _want_ you to be that man." Her face dropped a bit, turning serious almost instantly. "Percy, I care deeply for you. Truly, I didn't believe that I would reach this point, but here we stand. I want to see you happy, but I also want to be happy. I want so desperately to be selfish in this endeavor… and yet… _yet_ … I can't bear thinking that you would be miserable if I were to interfere where you didn't want it. That's why I'm willing to let you talk to the architect without fighting and clawing at you to stay with me. I know there's a chance that I'll lose you. You deserve to be happy though… probably more than I do."

Percy's face broke its facade of ice, and his expression turned sorrowful and conflicted quickly. Scáthach knew what she had done. She knew damn well that saying what she had was perfect hypocrisy. She knew that he would feel guilty, and that he would agonize over his decision now more than ever. And a part of her hated that she had resorted to what was basically tantamount to blackmail in order to gain a better foothold in his heart. Yet, another part of her was excited that she was now in a better position than what she had been in before.

"Tell me one thing, Percy," Scáthach's voice filtered gently into the air as she spoke. "Do you feel the same for me?"

"Yes." His reply came easily and unabatedly. Sea-green eyes looked down, showing clear signs of guilt when he freely admitted his own interest. Scáthach bit her lip when she saw the pain that flitted through his expression, understanding that he was wrestling with the knowledge that he was walking a fine line.

"I'm glad then. Please promise me this. You do what you feel is right. Make yourself happy, don't think about anything else. You deserve to be selfish, Percy. So for me, be selfish," Scáthach whispered as she closed the gap between them, planting her lips against Percy's once more.

This time, the former demigod responded instantly to her advances. He moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her torso and pulling her body toward his. The position they were in made it difficult to gain good body contact, but in that moment he didn't care. He hadn't experienced such emotional turmoil for some time, even during the training with Ahriman. His mind unfocused and uncaring, he pushed his tongue into Scáthach's mouth, fighting against her own. Feeling Scáthach move one hand to his hair and the other to the back of his neck, Percy felt her add pressure to the kiss. His own hands moved in opposite directions on back, with one coming to a rest on her hip and the other being placed on the bottom of her jaw, near her cheek.

They took their time together, relishing in their small reprieve. Both understood that with war knocking on their doorstep, their lives would become tragically difficult. When they sat together, though, attempting to lose themselves in one another, both felt a small blip of serenity. The war became a background thought in the moment, neither of the two able to find the ability to care. And yet, even as they drowned out the world, Percy and Scáthach fought against the pain in their conscience that told them of the errors they were committing.

Percy's guilt gnawed at him, and an uneasy knot twisted in his gut as he enjoyed the feeling of the magenta-haired woman's tongue roving over his teeth.

Scáthach's own self-loathing for manipulating the man across from her hammered in her brain.

The duo parted after several minutes. Percy looked away, groaning internally at the thought of explaining to Annabeth _two_ kisses with Scáthach. One could probably be forgiven with minor anger. Two would be more difficult to justify in any way, shape, or form. Then again, if he did try to justify it, there would have been little point in admitting to Scáthach that he was romantically interested. Percy realized just how terribly conflicted he was then. Both he and Scáthach had admitted their own desires. She wanted to be with him, and he had romantic feelings for her. And then there was Thalia.

' _Fuck.'_ Percy thought to himself, burying his head in his hands. He audibly bemoaned his situation, letting out a pitiful whimper.

"Was it really that bad for you?" Scáthach asked, amusement coloring her tone. The son of Poseidon raised his head to see that the witch had a small smirk on her face, though it dropped upon seeing his deadpan expression.

"No, it was amazing," Percy admitted. "And that's the fucking problem! Alright, enough. I can't think about this right now. We'll deal with it when the time comes. Scáthach, can you give me some time, at least until I can meet with Annabeth again and have a talk with her?"

Scáthach nodded her head tentatively. She was unsure of how long the wait would be, which she was fairly disgruntled about. ' _I actually like kissing him. And now I have to wait for who knows how long. Maybe I pushed a bit too hard.'_

"First and foremost, we have to find a way to get in touch with Ahriman and see what we should do. We technically failed the mission, considering that Crom opened a portal to the Realm of the Faded and brought back a bunch of his butt-buddies from Irish Mythology."

The magenta-haired witch gave her companion a wry glance. "I wouldn't exactly call them Crom's 'butt-buddies', as you so eloquently put it. You underestimate just how much Crom Cruach was reviled for his practices, even by the other gods themselves. They don't really like him, and he hardly likes them. As you said, Crom has other reasons for coming out of the woodwork. His allegiance certainly doesn't lie with the Celts, though it probably isn't with Spenta Mainyu either. Fucking enigma. Didn't he say he hated enigmas?"

Percy nodded his head thoughtfully. "Yeah, but at the same time he said he liked the way the world was currently. Personally, it sounds to me that he's gonna betray everybody in the end. Though… I doubt that he has the power to do so on his own." Percy ruffled his hair in confusion. "It doesn't make sense."

Before they could think to say anything else, a voice contributed to their conversation. "Perhaps I can help with that conundrum?"

Both Percy and Scáthach looked toward the person who spoke. She was a woman, looking to be in her early thirties, with long, wavy black hair that fell to the middle of her back. Her eyes were twinkling in a literal sense, as Percy could see there were several small dots that glowed, even as the rest of her eye, iris and all were pitch black. Occasionally, a line would streak through her glittering orbs. Her nose was straight and defined, and her cheekbones were placed fairly high on her face, though they weren't very prominent. She had a diamond shaped face, nearly perfectly proportioned and symmetrical. Even though her physical attributes were ones of ethereal beauty, the woman wore a simple black t-shirt, blue jeans that were cuffed to her calf, and white low-cut canvas sneakers.

Percy and Scáthach were immediately on edge, having realized that the being that stood before them was divine in nature. Both were up and off of the bench quickly, standing in relaxed, but prepared positions, knowing not to let themselves be taken off guard by a deity. The goddess' twinkling eyes crinkled a bit as she smiled at Percy. She raised her hand in greeting.

"Hello. I'm going to need to borrow you for a minute. I hope that doesn't inconvenience you in any way, but if it does, you really don't have any say in the matter." Her voice carried power and authority the likes of which Percy had never heard before.

"Sorry," Percy replied. "I'm not really in the business of allowing random goddesses to kidnap me. If I was, I probably would have died a long time ago considering how many were probably out to get me."

"Hera doesn't count then?" The goddess asked, her voice tinged with sarcasm.

Percy narrowed his eyes. "How do you know about that?"

"I've seen and heard so many things. I know so much about you Percy. Past. Present. Even a bit of your future."

"Congratulations, you can go ahead and sign up for the fortune-telling act at the nearest circus then. Don't let me hold you back, I don't really like the whole 'predicting the future' thing," The former demigod snarked, his eyes rolling slightly, though he did well to make sure he never lost sight of the potential threat.

The goddess chuckled softly before she shook her head. "Your patented sardonicism is intact I see. Either way, I wasn't asking. When your creator calls for your presence, one would do well to fall in line with her wishes." The goddess said with a smile that belied the threatening undertone.

Percy raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Creator…? You don't look a lot like my mom... nor my dad for that matter."

The dark-haired goddess nodded her head, raising her hand once more in a friendly greeting. "Yes. Nice to meet you Perseus Ajax Jackson, my little Anti-God. My name is Chaos, creator of most life as you know it."

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 **A/N: Regarding Scathach in this chapter. I felt like I was writing her a bit too perfect in every way. I wanted to show that she too can be affected by normal human sentiments, such as selfish desire. I also made her make mistakes last chapter such as when she forgot to tell Percy about Crom Cruach's other domains. Just to reduce Mary-Sue moments, I tried to make her believable without being unlikeable.**


	10. You're Gonna Go Far, Kid

**A/N: Welcome back for Chapter 10! Let me start by saying that since my courses and work are kicking my ass, this chapter made me cry at how difficult it was to write. But I actually surprised myself by getting this out as fast as I did. Then again, this was an exposition heavy chapter that I had planned from the very beginning of the story. This expands upon the universe a bit as I've made it.**

 _ **Reviews:**_

 **sirGLOCKsalot- That was something I was hoping to avoid since the conception of this story. While I realize that this is a work of fiction, so technically anything can work with an explanation, I wanted to make the characters slightly more human. I'm fairly certain that _very_ few women would be fine with constantly sharing their partner in all aspects of their lives. I mean, I get small experiments and stuff that people try in college, considering I am a university student, I can attest that some house-parties get kinda crazy. But that's more than likely always going to be a throw-away experience instead of something steady and solid. My reasoning stands in regard to Percy's ability as well. I see a lot of stories where he becomes a universal powerhouse with all sorts of elemental powers. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy stories with powerful Percy. I just wanted to try something a tad different. Thanks for the review! **

**Trigger-Happy Texan- I do hope people like how I decided to portray Chaos here. Thank you for your kind review!**

 **Legacy of Olympus- I'm sorry you feel that way. As a majority of voters decided to ask for her, I will be keeping her in the pairing.**

 **blurrybenjamin- No problem man. I try to write at least five hundred words every day, so chapters will more often than not come out within two weeks of one another, but I can't promise any specific days for uploads. I'm a simple Engineering major, and I have a part-time job I go to four days a week. If I didn't have other responsibilities I would write more than I currently am. Well, either way, thanks for your kind words and the review!**

 **Guest- Sorry, but with a majority of voters asking for her in the polls, I've decided to keep her with Percy.**

 **Shigure Toshiro- I'm glad that you liked the chapter. I felt like because of Percy's character, he would naturally feel quite conflicted about "betraying" Annabeth when his fatal flaw is all about loyalty. Thanks for the review!**

 **Nebular Reaper- You reviewed in the right chapter! Percy and Scáthach will soon be traveling back to the U.S. for a small reunion with the Greco/Roman pantheons. I agree that the romance is actually slow, but I find myself pacing so that things won't seem jarring when Percy eventually does get together with his romantic interests. Slow and steady wins the race... unless its a 40-meter sprint I guess. Thanks for the review!**

 **Raceman1234- Thanks for your kind words!**

 **Guest 2- Thank you!**

 **Uh Oh- It does seem that a few people don't like Annabeth, though I can't really understand why. She made mistakes, just like all humans do. Annabeth, just like everybody else in the story, will be painted as a person who can make errors in judgment. I mean, if you think about it, Scáthach has caused Percy quite a bit of physical pain, and Thalia and Hestia never tried to get to understand why Percy was in as much pain as he was during his time at camp. Well, enough of that. Thank you for your thoughts and the review!**

 **Juan de Pablo- Well thank you very much for your kind words! I wanted to bring something slightly fresh to the table in the PJO fanfic section, and thus this idea was born. I'm just glad that other people find it entertaining!**

 **SolidayHoliday- Thank you for the review!**

 **justafan- I was actually thinking about a way to circumvent the problem of Percy's mortality, and I think I've got a few ideas that I'll play around with. The Apples of Immortality was always one of those ideas too, so I'll keep that suggestion in mind. I agree that Percy is being manipulated a lot, but so far things have worked out for him well enough if I do say so myself. Thanks for your review and ideas!**

 **spnaph- Ah! My good friend! How good to hear from you once more. I'm glad that the chapter was a good and mellow one. That was my goal, since the previous installment was so action-packed. I'm also glad that I still have Percy's character down pat. It's really fun to work and twist things around to show just how difficult things can get for our favorite son of Poseidon. I'm glad that Percy's romantic plight is well received. It just felt natural to me, considering that I've kinda felt the same way before. Boy did that turn out terribly. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't scum-of-the-earth level or anything, but I made mistakes and had to deal with them justly. I've learned since then, and I felt that applying some of my own experience would humanize the characters a bit more for the audience. Thanks for the kind words and your continued reviews, they always make me smile!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not make any money off this work of fanfiction. All rights for the characters in Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus go to Rick Riordan and all who were involved in the creation of the novels.**

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10\. You're Gonna Go Far, Kid

* * *

Percy stared at the woman standing before him who claimed that she was the grand creator. Chaos, one of the most revered beings in Greek Mythology was an enigma to practically everybody that even knew her name. There were few records of her, either written or verbalized. Percy knew that she was extremely powerful, considering her position, and as such, refusing her could potentially turn into a dangerous situation. Admittedly, he normally disregarded etiquette and respect for gods and divine beings in favor of acting like himself, but given just _who_ he was speaking with, he found himself hard pressed to decline her.

Chaos put her hand down, her twinkling eyes never leaving the former demigod. The wind blew through her black hair, pushing it off to the side and causing it to flutter in front of her face. She moved forward, her footfalls making no noise as she strode to where Percy and Scáthach stood. She smoothed her hair away from her eyes and mouth, her hands committing no wasted effort in the process. Everything that she did was flawless, almost artificially so. The way that her smile crinkled the corners of her eyes and formed small dimples on her cheeks seemed out of place on her perfect face.

Unconsciously, the son of Poseidon took a step back as the creator drew close. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned slightly to see Scáthach staring at the primal being with narrow eyes. Taking a deep breath, Percy turned back to face Chaos. The wind had stopped blowing, but the lapping of the waves and the seagulls kept the ambiance alive, even as the odd tension between Chaos and those who stood apart from her continued to build.

"When you said 'borrow', what did you mean?" Percy asked, his voice carrying through the air tonelessly. His eyes didn't waver, even as the creator closed the distance before he could think to blink. She stood before him, arms crossed over her chest as she looked directly into his eyes. The two were of the same height, both being nearly six-feet tall, and yet even then Percy felt like he was being looked down upon. As she simply stood a foot in front of him, he felt his skin crawl and his heart skip a beat from the raw wild nature of her presence.

Chaos cocked her head to the side. "I meant exactly what I said. I wish to borrow you for a little while so that we can discuss some things that have been weighing on my mind. I can assure you of this, no harm will come to you during this time. In fact, I guarantee that you'll be more than pleased with the outcome of our meeting."

Her voice matched his own monotonous intonation, almost an exact replica of the inflection, or lack thereof, that he had implemented himself. He noticed that she stood with her shoulders squared, just like his were. His eye twitched almost imperceptibly, and in that instance, hers did the same. Percy looked down and found that her feet were apart, like his own. In a way, it truly felt like she was artificial, only copying the subtle nuances of what it meant to be alive.

"Where do you plan on taking him?" Scáthach questioned, finding her voice and speaking for the first time since Chaos' arrival. "Technically we can be called by our benefactor any moment, and don't want to explain how a primordial being came and took away one of his warriors. One who is nearly a necessity for countering a variety of gods that we could encounter."

Chaos looked at Scáthach blandly. Her twinkling eyes lost a bit of sheen when they landed on the witch's form. "If that's the case then it doesn't matter where I take him, just how long I have him for. With that being such, I would say that you don't have any reason to be worried. I will only be taking him for a short period of time, perhaps one hour, two at the most. During that time, I seriously doubt that your _benefactor_ will miss Percy too much."

Scáthach placed her hands on her hips and thinned her lips. "I appreciate that you would be so thoughtful of our needs, but I still can't help but feel uncomfortable with Percy simply being taken by a being who hasn't been heard from since the beginning of time."

"I see," Chaos responded with a smile. "In other words, you actually don't care about your _benefactor's_ needs, but rather you yourself are anxious to allow Percy to come with me. Either way, the outcome will still be the same. He will come with me, whether you want it to happen or not. I can give you a variety of reasons, but the most prominent would simply be that you have no power to stop me from doing what I want." The goddess finished with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Scáthach went to step forward, but she was stopped by Percy holding out his arm in front of her. She looked at him with slight incredulity.

"Let's not do anything rash now," Percy said, looking over to his friend. He gave her a small smile. "If Chaos wanted to kill me or something, she would have done so already. I mean, I'm pretty sure she has more than enough power to do so." He moved his attention back to the primordial.

Chaos shrugged her shoulders smoothly, a smirk crossing her lips as her eyes lit up once more when she trained her vision on Percy. "That is true. I have no reason to kill you at the moment, and I do so hope that you don't give me one." Her smirk morphed into a small frown as she spoke. "While I don't think you would be foolish enough to do something to aggravate me, I do believe that sometimes you manage to cause problems without trying. Of course, if that were the case, I do suppose I could turn a blind eye."

In that moment, Percy could only wonder exactly how long Chaos had been watching him for. True enough, he had always seemed to stir up trouble wherever he went, in practically every situation. Though, if he were being honest with himself, he could hardly control what came out of his mouth when he was younger. Both his youthful naïvety and his ADHD combined helped contribute to the lack of a verbal filter. In the end, he supposed everything had gone well enough, considering that he was still alive even after what he had been through. The son of Poseidon looked at the primordial with suspicion lurking in his eyes. He questioned just how much the creator knew about him, and why she had taken such an interest to begin with.

"Would you mind explaining what you meant when you interrupted my partner and I?" Percy asked suddenly. The goddess had implied that she had an inkling into what the silver-haired deity was planning, something which Percy was partial to understanding. Out of all the deities that Percy had ever met or fought, it was perhaps Crom Cruach above all others that he would give both his respect and fear. That wasn't to say that the young man didn't fear Chaos herself, or any other powerful being for that matter, however he hadn't experienced the raw, primal fear of death by their hands like he had Crom Cruach's. The contradictory god was had come close to killing him multiple times during their fight, and Percy had grown far stronger than he ever had been as a demigod. He shuddered to think what would become of others who would fight Crom.

He glanced at his magenta-haired companion, biting his lower lip discreetly. If she had fought Crom, Percy wasn't sure that Scáthach would have been the victor of their fight. While he knew that his mentor was nowhere near weak, he doubted that she could match the sheer strength that Crom had outputted. That, along with the nasty reveal of his other domains could have been more than enough to have pulled the fight in his favor. If Percy hadn't been given the curse of vitality then he was sure that he would have been killed fighting against Crom Cruach.

Chaos cupped her chin with one hand as she pondered the question. "Well, there should be no harm in telling you right now. I'm a bit embarrassed to admit this actually, and I do hope that you won't think too poorly of me." The goddess gave a sheepish chuckle. "You see, I actually had Crom Cruach as my informant on the inside of Spenta Mainyu's little circle of associates. I told him to act as if he were following Spenta Mainyu and his orders to the letter, but truthfully I never expected that they would try to open a portal to the Realm of the Faded and extract the lost gods from there. Unfortunately, before I could find out the situation, my attention was pulled away from Earth for a while to another planet that was undergoing some turmoil. I take my eyes off of this place for a few weeks and things go from bad to worst. I also didn't expect Crom to be fighting against you, Percy. Had I known, I would have asked that he not injure you too much."

At that, Percy balked a little. His mind raced with the knowledge that Crom Cruach was, in fact, a spy for Chaos. "How long has he been informing you on what Spenta Mainyu is up to?"

"Hm," The creator tapped her chin with her index finger, eyes pointed to the sky in consideration. "Probably… six months or so. Not very long admittedly. Truthfully, it was almost by pure coincidence that we met. You see, I was hoping to find somebody that could give me some knowledge on what Spenta was planning, and I literally ran into Crom Cruach while I was pondering the small dilemma in my mind."

"He agreed to help you? Just like that? It sounded like he has his own ideas when we fought, so that must mean that you as well share his sentiments," Percy stated quickly.

Chaos inclined her head. "You would be correct. I care little for seeing the world change. Unfortunately, I am governed by laws even more stringent that those that have been placed on my other creations, thanks to my mother." The sigh that escaped her lips was one of weary exasperation.

"Your mother? I thought you were the first one in the universe," Percy muttered, crossing his arms.

The primordial walked away from Percy and Scáthach, moving toward the railing that stood by the edge of the gazebo. She placed her hands on the metal, staring out at the setting sun as it dipped below the water's illusionary edge. Salty air picked up once again, causing the goddess to squint a little as she watched the seagulls flutter their wings in an attempt to stabilize themselves from the sudden gust.

"I'm not surprised that you would be of that knowledge. There are varying accounts of the genesis of this universe, and yet none of them are completely correct," She stated, turning around and leaning against the railing. "My mother is Ananke, and my father, Chronos. From them, I was born, and from myself alone came most other life in the universe."

"You keep saying 'most' other life. What do you mean by that? It's a very peculiar way of saying things," Scáthach noted, her face impassive as she stared at the goddess.

"I'm afraid that this is where I draw the line. I'm going to take Percy with me so that we can finish the conversation without any interruptions from outside sources," Chaos responded blandly. "I hope you have no problems with that."

Scáthach shook her head with anger visible in her expression. "I'm afraid I _do_ have problems with that."

The goddess rolled her sparkling eyes, which had never left Percy's form throughout the entirety of the conversation. "Unfortunately I was speaking to Percy, not you. You aren't his mother, nor are you his keeper. He is above you in so many ways, and yet I see you still trying to reach out and grasp onto him." Finally, Chaos turned her attention to the magenta-haired witch. "Percy is like a light, isn't he? Shining in the dark, and turning repentant sinners away from the darkness that seeps into this world."

The son of Poseidon himself looked at the two women oddly. He coughed to get their attention after the two didn't stop their staring contest. "Chaos, I'll go with you to discuss whatever it is you wanted." He raised his hand and cut off the imminent retort from Scáthach.

Chaos clapped her hands together with a smile. "Excellent! I was afraid that I would have to forcibly take you with me. My, that would have left a bad taste in my mouth for a few minutes." She stepped forward and placed a hand on Percy's shoulder. Without warning, the two blinked out of existence, leaving Scáthach alone in the gazebo, listening to the sounds of the bay.

* * *

A buzz lit up Percy's nervous system as the world twisted and turned around itself. Electricity shot through his body and coursed through his veins as liquid nitrogen seemed to fill his stomach. His body felt compounded and stiff, then in the next moment, it felt free, as if he had lost all semblance of a solid form. Time had no meaning, and yet it was all he could think about as the intense feeling of being crushed weighed down upon him. He still had fairly coherent thought, and as such he knew that Chaos had teleported him someplace without even giving him a warning. Yet, that wouldn't have been too bad, considering that he was vaguely accustomed to the feeling of divine teleportation. It was for that reason that he wondered why he was feeling so terrible.

Before he could think on the question further, he was dropped unceremoniously on something cold and hard. He landed face-down, groaning in discomfort more than pain. A wave of fresh nausea took hold of him and caused him to clenched his eyes shut tightly. Percy didn't move for some time, waiting for the turning in his gut to stop and for his mind to clear of the haze that settled over it. After regaining a better bearing on the world, he opened his eyes, noticing the soft light that brushed against his vision. He blinked a few times before he took in his surroundings. As it was, he was lying flat on his stomach, practically kissing the white marble floor.

The son of Poseidon pushed himself off the ground. With shaky legs, he stood up, looking around. From what he could gather, he was in a mid-sized vestibule. To his left were three separate doors made of wood. On his right was an equal number of doors of the same material, although all of the doors were open. Directly in front of him stood two curved staircases that led to an upper-level. One could see a few doors on the upper floor before the hallway was cut from view by thick stone walls. In between both staircases were a set of large double doors. The vestibule was sparsely decorated, with only a few accessories such as a grand piano and a few statues littered across the room. The walls were made of the same kind of marble that the floor was, which lead to a white-wash color permeating in Percy's vision.

Suddenly, he reared back as a small dancing ball of fire floated directly in before him. The fire was a warm orange-yellow, and looked to be able to fit inside his hand should he have attempted to grab at it. Percy frowned when he saw the fire simply pass by him through the air, dancing its way further from his position. Looking around the room more closely, he realized that there were many more of the small fires simply hovering transiently across the vestibule. The flickering flames helped cast a warm glow through the room, contrasting with the white stone that kept the atmosphere feeling cool.

Percy blinked as he watched the fires pass straight through the walls of the room, almost as if they were intangible. He was sure that he was wrong in that respect, but couldn't understand how the fires could pass through solid objects and still emit light as if their photons were tangible matter. The former demigod jumped a little when a small orb of fire exited his body from the chest, a bit perturbed that he hadn't felt it pass through his torso.

"Welcome, Percy," Chaos called out from the top of the stairs, where she was leaning against the railing. She smiled down at the raven-haired man, slowly descending down the steps, running her hand across the wooden handrails. Her long legs bent perfectly at the knee as she made her indolent movements. The primordial's eyes glittered in the warm orange glow that the fires cast. She moved a strand of hair out of the way of her face, pushing the stray lock to the side and behind her ear. Percy stood, practically transfixed as he watched the perfect goddess make her way downstairs.

But underneath her beauty and wonder, Percy could feel the primal energy flow through and dominate the room. It whipped at the very essence of reality as the area directly around Chaos wavered and rippled where she walked. As she passed with unnatural grace, Percy realized that there was something off about the creator goddess. He had already understood what it was when they were in Scotland. For all intents and purposes, Chaos was _too_ perfect to be seen as a living, sentient being. It was like looking into the very heart of the word _grace_. A concept, instead of reality.

"Chaos," Percy said as the primordial took the final step off the stairs. She walked toward him and stopped a few feet away. With itching skin and a twitching hand, Percy asked, "Where are we?"

Having noticed his discomfort due to her proximity, Chaos let her smile drop slightly as she took two steps back. "Apologies. I'm not accustomed to interacting with mortals. Due to my mother's stringent restrictions on my person, I rarely get to go out and enjoy what the mortal realm has to offer." She shook her head, before gesturing to the room at large. "To answer your question, however, I transported us to my home. We're in the center of the universe."

Percy blinked a few times and scratched the top of his head. "Really? I thought the center of the universe was like… a supermassive black hole or whatever."

"To mortals, it may seem that way, but I can assure you that there is no black hole here. Even I would be hard-pressed to create or nullify the massive gravitational pull that is a black hole. In other words, constantly using my energy in order to stop my home from being ripped apart at the molecular level would not be my definition of a pleasant activity," Chaos explained nonchalantly. She looked around the room. "Admittedly, it didn't take long to build the house, but my parents were quite particular when it came to the decorations, and I'm afraid that if this was destroyed they would have me do the remodeling for them. I'd rather avoid that situation if I could."

"So then there is no black hole at the center of the universe?" Percy asked.

Chaos gave him a lopsided smile. "No. Some species in the universe already know this. Humans are simply behind in that regard. But I suppose there can be no fault placed on them. They are a relatively young species. Some of my other creations have lived five times the length of your people. No need to feel inadequate in that case."

The young man decided to change the subject. "You brought me here for a reason right? What did you want to talk about that you felt the need to bring me trillions of light-years away from Earth to do so?"

The primordial motioned for Percy to follow with her hand. She turned around and walked toward the double doors between the stairs, Percy moving to trail behind her a few steps. Chaos pushed through the doors and stepped into a grand hallway. Several two tier crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, which was slightly curved upward. The chandeliers were magnificent in scale, each being larger than ten feet in diameter. The walls of the hallways were decorated with all forms of artwork, ranging from mundane oil canvas paintings to moving three-dimensional models of different structures, and even to re-runs of black and white television shows and movies. Percy stared at the grandiose environment with slight disbelief. As unfortunate as it was, he could say that he was becoming desensitized to the wonders of the greater universe. That being said, he certainly wasn't at the point where nothing could shock or awe him.

The hallway stretched long and far, so much so that Percy couldn't see the end, even as he strained his eyes to do so. The two walked in relative silence, the only noise being made was by their feet as they moved along the hard floor. Percy admired the artistic value that the walls held, letting his eyes linger on certain pieces for some time before eventually shifting his focus onto another exquisite display. He looked over at Chaos and saw that she kept her eyes forward, not allowing them to wander as he was doing. Percy supposed that she must have already seen all of the artwork that her home had to offer, considering it was she who undoubtedly picked out each piece. Not to mention that the goddess probably passed by every work hundreds of times for who knows how long.

"So... do you like living here?" Percy asked awkwardly, trying to elicit some conversation to fill the time. "I mean, it's a pretty neat place you've got here. And the art is top-notch that's for sure. But it does seem kinda big if you're the only one who lives here."

Chaos looked at him oddly prior to answering. "I am not the only one who lives here. My parents, Ananke and Chronos also call this mansion their home. I was simply the one to create it. While none out of the three of us need to have a roof over our head or any modern accommodation, it still feels nice to have a tangible area to call home. I spent quite some time trying to get this just right, so I'm glad that you like it. Consider yourself lucky, you're the second mortal to have ever visited." She calmly let her eyes strafe across the room, her expression neutral as she took in the sight.

Percy gave her an inquisitive glance, his eyebrow cocked. Knowing that he was only the second mortal to have ever been invited to the center of the universe certainly was interesting. In truth, he had never expected his life to evolve into what it had become. Never in his dreams had he pictured himself walking inside of the home to the three oldest beings in existence. Especially not with Chaos herself walking right beside him, answering his questions in a semi-amiable fashion. He couldn't help but wonder who had been the first person to walk through the center of the universe, and if Chaos had invited that person as well, or if it had been Chronos or Ananke.

"Only the second huh? I do feel honored I guess. I just wish I knew exactly why I was here in the first place," Percy muttered under his breath. Chaos must have heard him though because she turned to face him with a slightly amused smirk.

"Patience. You will be awarded your answers soon enough. Trust me when I say that if I didn't feel the necessity to bring you to my home, then I wouldn't have. Thus, you should understand that what I have to discuss is for our ears only. I would explain to you a bit of history right now, however, I would need my parents' permission to do so, which is why we are walking to meet them right now," Chaos stated, pointing her finger toward the other end of the hallway. Percy frowned when he saw a pair of doors sitting neatly where Chaos had indicated. He was sure that they hadn't been there the last time he had looked. In fact, he hadn't seen the end of the hallway at all. Now, though, there was a clear end in sight, one that wasn't there previously. With a shake of his head, the former demigod decided not to dwell on the oddities that he had experienced within the past several minutes. In a sense, he had expected no less considering where he was and who he was with.

"Since you feel comfortable introducing me to them, your parents aren't gonna vaporize me or anything right? They won't be angry that you brought a lowly mortal into their house? I do hope that's the case because the novel experience of having practically every divine being I come across try to kill me is growing stale," Percy fretted, running a hand through his hair. "I mean they can't be angry since it was _you_ who brought me―or rather dragged me―here, even if it wasn't really against my will."

Chaos tapped a finger against her chin as she thought about the question. Each second that she remained pondering only aided in creating more tension in Percy's body. He silently bemoaned his luck. Even when he wasn't a demigod he was still given the short end of the stick apparently. The son of Poseidon allowed his head to fall into his hands as he walked, slowly taking deep breaths in order to calm his nerves as the doors that would lead to Ananke and Chronos drew ever closer. Percy gave his companion a sideways glance, only to see her giving him an apologetic look. Unfortunately, it did nothing to help him relax, inducing even more anxiety in the former demigod.

"I don't believe that they would go that far," Chaos finally responded as the duo reached the doors. She seemed pensive as she spoke, not bringing up Percy's confidence in the least. "As long as I explain why I brought you here then things will play out smoothly." With that said, she placed a hand on the door and pushed it open.

Percy walked in after Chaos, entering a vast space that couldn't be called a room. There were no walls that could be seen, along with no floor or ceiling. Instead, what permeated the room was an inky darkness. Percy took a tentative step after Chaos, seeing that she wasn't falling into the black endless space that surrounded them. It felt odd to him, considering that there was a mental dissonance between what he was seeing and what he was feeling. It _felt_ like there was a solid surface underneath him, but his eyes couldn't _perceive_ anything that would support him. It was different from simply stepping into a dark room. He could certainly see _beyond_ whatever it was he walked on, as if there was glass beneath him. The only reasons he could see as it stood were the lights that appeared to be spiraling galaxies which floated in the space. Percy blinked a few times as his brain tried to comprehend the situation it had found itself in. Vertigo was slowly setting in as his rational mind attempted to sift through the information that was being sent its way, yet it couldn't stand against the delirium that was overlapping his senses.

Raw energy wafted through the environment, sending lightning through Percy's scalp and igniting his skin. Every nerve in his body lit up in a soft hum. He felt his throat constrict slightly, his mouth suddenly dry and his lips cracked. His hands jittered in place even as he clenched them to form fists in an attempt to control their movements. He blinked as he tried to gather his wits about him. So caught up in his own hysteria had he been, that Percy hadn't noticed that Chaos had placed her hand on his shoulder. He looked at the hand, and followed it back to the body it was connected to. Percy noted that he was now standing right beside the primordial goddess, instead of behind her. The former demigod also noticed that in front of him were two people. sitting in a pair of comfortable looking recliners. The figure on the left was a man with a head full of white hair, almost like fresh powdered snow that had fallen. He had a soft goatee growing around his face and deep aquatic blue eyes. He looked to be no older than forty years old, but Percy knew from the way that the air shimmered around him that he was far older. On the man's right sat a woman with kindly, emerald green eyes and light brown hair the fell in soft waves to her shoulders. Smile lines were apparent on her face, being prominent around her cheeks and eyes. She too looked to be near the same age as the man that sat beside her. When he took into consideration where they were, Percy could only assume that the two sitting in front of him were, in fact, Chronos and Ananke, Chaos' parents.

Silence descended upon the room, or perhaps it had always been there and Percy simply hadn't noticed it until that moment. He swallowed heavily in order to relieve his dry throat, allowing himself the small reprieve. Chronos and Ananke were letting their eyes move from Chaos to Percy, examining the son of Poseidon with intense scrutiny. There was nothing said for several tense seconds, only serving to fuel the anxiety that had built in Percy's stomach. The lead ball that had formed became even heavier when he saw Ananke narrow her eyes in what appeared to be disdain. He clenched his jaw, fighting the shake of his arms and legs. The hand on his shoulder soon became the only thing that anchored him to where he was. From Chaos' grip, he felt empowered to keep resisting the gentle dementia that had invaded a small part of his brain. Yet even though it had started small, it had carved itself a larger portion, slowly violating the rest of his mind. Even his mental barriers―of which he was quite proud of―could do nothing to stop the encroaching sense of dread that poisoned his every thought.

"Welcome back Chaos," Ananke finally spoke, breaking the unbearable silence. "You come before us, with a _mortal_ no less. Tell me―or rather tell us―why you have disregarded my laws, which I created and set for a purpose, especially the ones that regard to your own person. You know that I am lenient, yet you come here after blatantly ignoring my _commands_. I give you this opportunity to explain, considering that the last mortal you brought indeed had worth, and proved itself a benefit in the end."

Chaos released her hold on Percy's shoulder, allowing the cold madness to settle in on him. She dipped her head in respect to her parents. "Apologies mother, father, but I believe that this mortal will be paramount in settling the situation on Earth."

"Is that so? Humor me in telling why you believe this then, my daughter? Perhaps if your reasoning is sufficient I won't be inclined to destr-" Ananke was interrupted by a loud snore coming from her immediate left. All eyes turned toward Chronos, who was resting his head on the back of his chair. His mouth was agape, letting go of a few snorts as he breathed in. Ananke for her sighed heavily and reached out to pinch her husband's face.

"I'm awake! I'm awake!" Chronos exclaimed as his wife's fingers twisted the skin of his cheek painfully. He rubbed the abused area in soft circles, giving his wife a small pout, which looked fairly out of place on the Primordial of Time. "That hurt Ananke. Why'd you have to do it so hard?"

The Primordial of Necessity and Destiny huffed and crossed her arms. "I was here, trying to intimidate Percy Jackson, and you had to go and fall asleep while I was getting to the threats!"

Chronos rolled his eyes and slouched in his chair. "Well, it was taking too long. I mean we spent like a full minute just staring at him and Chaos. Do you know all of the things that could happen in a minute? I'll tell you-"

"-A lot. Yes, I know that dear, you tell me that all the time," Ananke shook her head. "Don't you think it would have been fun to scare the wits out of this young man, though? I mean, he's such an interesting mortal, I think it would have been quite interesting to see if he would have fainted." Ananke gave Percy an eerie smile.

The Primordial of Time gave Percy a wry smile as he ignored his wife. "I apologize for Ananke's odd hobby. She's fairly relaxed when you get to know her more, but as it is she started watching human television. Ever since then all she can talk about it some program called 'Punk'd' something or other. I can attest that she's been attempting to prank me and Chaos for the past few months nonstop," Chronos explained, giving his wife a side glance.

"I tell you Chronos, those mortals think of the most interesting things! Even though we shouldn't physically interact with them, that doesn't mean we can't share in their ingenuity. Just the other day, for example, I saw a man wrestle a crocodile!" Ananke exclaimed with wide eyes. "I was so riveted that the man would place himself in such peril simply for entertainment value. I would never have thought that Chaos' creations would ever reach where they are today," The ancient primordial admitted.

Chaos rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "O ye of little faith. I always told you that my little children would someday become interesting. But all I heard for _centuries_ was 'They'll never amount to anything' and 'Why don't you put your talents to something more productive.' Now look at you, sitting in front of the T.V. for hours upon hours watching mortal entertainment."

"If I can interject?" Percy spoke up, ceasing the verbal interplay between the three primordials.

"Of course dear. I apologize, we almost forgot that you were there," Ananke said with a genial smile.

Chaos scoffed at her mother. "Speak for yourself. I was just waiting to see how long he would keep quiet while in the midst of three super-powerful beings. Honestly, I figured he would take a bit longer, but I guess you never know what Percy will do. I believe somebody already told you this, but you are fantastic at ruining the plans of immortals."

For his part, the former demigod shrugged helplessly. "It's what I do. Before we get sidetracked, though, do you mind telling me how you knew who I was?" He directed his inquiry to Ananke.

The goddess for her part cocked her head to one side as she looked at him with confused eyes. Percy wondered if he had indeed asked a stupid question, given that Ananke was staring at him as such. "I'm the Primordial of Destiny, young man. Do you truly think that I didn't know that this would happen? Out of all the outcomes of your life, this was one of them. You, ending up here, at the center of the universe, speaking with Chronos and myself in order to gain the blessing to wed our daughter. Now, as Chaos is a grown woman already, I cannot make any decision for her, but I suppose her choice in you wasn't terrible."

Percy's mouth opened and closed, his eyes glazing over as he replayed Ananke's words in his mind. He looked to his left, only to see Chaos rubbing her temples in small circular motions. She was muttering something under her breath, but the son of Poseidon couldn't make out any exact words. Chaos shook her head and adopted a phlegmatic expression as she raised her head to look at Ananke.

"Mother, please, enlighten me to the reason that you believe Percy is here to ask for my hand in marriage?" Chaos' voice was blasé when addressing the other primordial.

Tapping her finger to her chin, the goddess pondered the question for a few seconds before she deigned it time to answer. "Well, destiny is quite a fickle thing, and the last time I checked the way Percy's was playing out made it seem that he would fall in love with you. I didn't look too far into it, but I knew that you would eventually find him worthy and fall madly in love with him too. Then you would both agree to gain the blessings of your parents for the marriage. Sally Jackson would fully support her child of course, as long as he was happy, and while Chronos and I would be slightly adverse to the idea of our immortal daughter being involved with a mortal man we would give you two our blessing."

Chronos placed his hand on Ananke's shoulder to calm her from her longwinded explanation. "Dear, I believe that you've been watching too many of those Japanese shoujo anime programs. As you said, that was simply _one_ possibility for his future. I think that you may have focused on that one just a tad too much and ignored the multitude of other possibilities."

Ananke looked at Percy and Chaos, seeing them both staring at her with slight apprehension. "Wait... you mean that you aren't here to ask for Chaos' hand as your wife?"

"Er... no?" Percy offered apologetically.

Chaos shook her head at the same time. "Not even close."

Ananke deflated in her chair and moped, tracing her finger over the arm of the recliner. Percy almost felt bad when he saw the sulking goddess, knowing that in a way it was his fault that she had gotten so worked up. Rationally he knew that it _technically_ wasn't his fault, considering that she had only seen one outcome out of the probable thousands, but there was still a treacherous part of his brain that formed a seed of guilt. Then again, at least he hadn't been quite as brutal in his response as Chaos had been. He took slight solace in knowing he hadn't savagely crushed Ananke's hopes and dreams like her daughter might very well have done.

"Right... I was actually hoping to finally learn why I was brought here," Percy supplied.

"Well, I was going to get to that part, but my parents seem to like going off on tangents about inane subjects," Chaos retorted dryly. "The reason we came here was two-fold. First, I wanted to get away from any prying ears or eyes, especially those of a certain God of Evil that I know you're well acquainted with. Second, I need the permission from my parents in order to tell you the story of the beginnings of the universe. That way you'll understand some things a bit better."

Both Chronos and Ananke gave their daughter a surprised look. They glanced at one another before they both turned their attention to Percy, who fidgeted slightly under their intense gaze.

"We hope you understand that what is about to be disclosed to you is no small trifle. Never speak of this outside of Chaos, Ananke, or myself," Chronos stated, his tone showing no room for discussion. "If you do tell anybody what you're about to hear, I will personally travel back in time to before you do so and wipe out your entire family. Do you understand?"

Percy felt his anger grow at the threat toward his mother, Paul, and the little sister that he was sure he had. He clenched his teeth and curled his fingers. "While I don't appreciate your threat to my family, I understand how important this might be."

In an instant, Chronos was in front of Percy. A fist collided with Percy's gut, sending the young man several feet back. He rolled a few times before he gained his bearings and stopped his momentum. He gripped his stomach as he fought the urge to vomit what he'd eaten earlier that day. Through grit teeth and baleful eyes, the son of Poseidon stood straight. Before he could say anything Chronos flicked his wrist and Percy was pulled forward by an unknown force. Tumbling along the "ground" he stopped a foot in front of Chronos. The primordial was about to bring his foot down on the curse-bearer when he was forced to step back. A flash of silver in the dim light had caught his eye just as it was sent in an upward arc toward his body. Percy jumped up to his feet and hefted Algos in his left hand.

"You don't understand anything if you believe that what you are about to learn 'might' be important," Chronos said calmly. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, before turning around and walking back to his recliner. "Never tell anybody. No exceptions. A slip of your tongue may be what destroys this universe as we know it. That would be a far greater loss than the life of you and your mortal family."

Chronos sat down and crossed his legs. Ananke and Chaos both simply stared at the Primordial of Time, one with worry and the other with irritation. He leaned his face on his fist and motioned to Chaos with his free arm.

Percy allowed Algos to dematerialize into concept once again when Chaos turned to him and spoke. "I'm sorry about that Percy, but my father is right. Do your utmost to ensure that this never reaches the ears of anybody but us. You'll be the first person other than the three of us who learn of this, and we recognize that risk, but that doesn't mean that we won't accept any intelligence leaks."

Percy frowned and sighed heavily. "If you keep speaking in riddles I'll die before you ever tell me this extremely dangerous secret. I'll do my damnedest to make sure that this never gets out if that promise means anything to you immortals. Now if you would go ahead and get to the point I would really appreciate it."

"Very well, with their permission, I'll start from the beginning," Chaos started, clearing her throat. She conjured two chairs that faced one another, and a small table in between the seats. On the table appeared a pitcher full of water and two glasses. When motioned, Percy sat down on the padded leather, sinking into the chair. Chaos took the seat opposite him and poured the two of them half a glass of water. She took a sip and leaned back a bit.

"My mother and father were the first sentient beings to appear in the dimension we currently inhabit. This dimension consists of the universe as we know it, and is the blanket dimension that covers this area of existence. You see, there are multiple blanket dimensions in existence, which do not interact with one another, but are similar in many features. Do you know of what I speak?" Chaos asked, looking pointedly at the son of Poseidon.

Percy nodded. "Yeah, I heard about parallel universes and stuff if that's what you mean. But when you say 'blanket dimension' are you implying that there are things beneath that blanket?"

"Exactly. Inside of the blanket dimension, there are smaller pocket dimensions. Tartarus is one such pocket dimension. Purgatory is another of those. Neither are as large as the blanket dimension that they 'reside under' as I would put it, but both are separate entities in their own right." Chaos explained, steepling her fingers while she spoke. "As I said, there are multiple blanket dimensions, with their own universes and pocket dimensions. Now, where in this dimension mother and father were the first, in other dimensions where this is not always so. That being said, they are not the main creator deities for this dimension either. That honor goes to me. Once more, this is not the case for all of existence."

"You're saying that in other dimensions there are different 'main creator' deities?" Percy inferred with a cocked eyebrow.

"Yes. Not only that but in this dimension, I am not the only creator. There have been others. Those others, however, are not of this dimension. The other creators and 'supreme deities' are simply a fragment of what they truly are in their own dimension. They have no higher power than myself and are simply pretenders to their titles. To understand how these pretenders came about interacting with this dimension, you must first know that when I was still young an event of massive proportions occurred in the universe." Chaos paused and took a sip from her glass. She set the glass down and tapped her finger on the arm of her chair. The primordial's eyes were closed as she allowed herself to catch her breath. "The Conjunction of Realities. An event that ripped the fabric of all the blanket dimensions apart. It was an outward ripple of energy on a universal scale. The event was not simply an explosion of energy, however. It also tore a part of my parents and my own essence away from us. A few millennia later, and there came into being, without my interference, a massive group of 'supreme beings' that likened themselves to the one true absolute power of this universe. War soon erupted between these 'supreme beings' as was natural. Due to mother's laws, I didn't interfere, simply trying to solve the puzzle of what exactly had happened. It was then that I came to the conclusion that these deities must have been the small aspects of their true selves from different dimensions. It made sense, of course, considering that each believed that they were the one true power in the universe. That wasn't true in this dimension, but in their own respective realities, it probably was.

Millions of years of war and many of those 'supreme gods' were killed. Eventually, most of them tired of constant battle. They finally struck an accord of peace and of non-aggression. Many of them went off to other galaxies in order to get away. A few of them eventually made it to the Milky Way galaxy, one of my newest creations. It was then that I revealed myself and my parent's to most of the remaining invaders, wherever they were. Most of them accepted that they were not the ultimate power in the universe and that they had been trapped in a completely alternate dimension to their own. Or at least, this was the lie that I told them. What I truly believe, though, is that with a truly massive influx of energy, another Conjunction of Realities is a possibility. I kept that information for myself," Chaos stopped and scratched her eyebrow with her index finger.

Percy took the time to ask his question. "Why didn't you tell them what you thought?"

Chaos chuckled a bit at his inquiry. "Please. If they knew that they weren't stranded in this dimension and that they could get back to their own, they would probably try to cause another Conjunction. I'm sure that doesn't sound bad to you, but that's because you don't know what it entails. The only Conjunction to occur released a massive wave of _physical_ energy that spanned the universe in its entirety. If that were to happen again then it would destroy practically all mortal life as I know it. I'm not really looking for that to happen so, for now, I'll avoid allowing it. Maybe once I get bored I'll want to start over, but until that point..." Chaos shrugged, showing her stance on the matter.

With a shudder, Percy replied, "I don't understand why you're telling me all this, fascinating as it is."

"Of course you don't, I didn't expect you too since I was about to enlighten you," Chaos responded imperiously, sniffing down at the former demigod. "Allow me to start by saying that Crom Cruach's stunt regarding the Realm of the Faded was not what I intended. I should have been there to tell him not to follow those specific orders, but like I said I was held up watching another galaxy. Let me put things like this. I created the Realm of the Faded for my divine creations alone. Yet other deities made by other 'creator gods' somehow ended up in this realm after they decided to fade."

"Wait..." Percy held up his hand to stop Chaos. He felt it was fairly audacious of him to assume he could interrupt the primordial as he pleased, but he figured there was little risk of him being disintegrated on the spot. After all, she had already gone through so much trouble. There would have been next to no reason to waste her time by destroying him for a small, if impolite, gesture. "Gods _decide_ to fade? I thought-"

"-You thought wrong obviously," Chaos snarked condescendingly as she cut Percy off. "If they want, yes, gods can choose to move on to the Realm of the Faded. In the cases of the gods not of my lineage, this really is their only choice if they wish to continue to exist."

Percy scratched his head. "I'm not sure I follow."

The Primordial of Creation leaned forward in her chair, allowing her eyes to lock onto Percy's. She intertwined her fingers together as she spoke in a low tone. "Have you ever heard the expression 'People Die If They Are Killed' by any chance? But normally gods are thought of the exception to that rule right?" Chaos narrowed her eyes. "And yet earlier I didn't misspeak when I said that many of the 'supreme beings' that fought their war were killed. The reason why they died and didn't fade is simple. Because they're not of this dimension naturally, they cannot maintain their consciousness should their essence be damaged. In order to reach the Realm of the Faded, gods must consciously will themselves to fade. Because my creations are of this dimension, they retain a form of sentience even after their essence has been damaged. This is not the same for those who are of the other dimensions."

Silence fell on the room as Chaos leaned back in her chair. She moved her hand through her hair and pushed a few strands away from her face. The primordial's twinkling eyes were staring intently at the man opposite of her. She waited for his response patiently as the gears no doubt turned in his head. Chaos brought the glass of water to her lips and took a long draft. Moving forward she refilled her drink and set the pitcher back on the table gently.

"So the gods who were released from the Realm of the Faded chose to go there?" Percy asked slowly. His face was uncertain as he looked at Chaos for confirmation. "Not only that but if they were to be killed before they could make themselves fade, then their essence would never reform? That would be it? They'd be gone for good?"

Chaos nodded in affirmation. "That would be it. Gone from this dimension forever. That makes most of those gods a lot easier to deal with now that you know they won't reform eventually right? I hope this has given you some incentive to continue even when the odds seem impossibly stacked against you. Then again, I hardly see the need to tell you something like that. You've set some impressive precedent with regards to fighting for what you believe in. That's why I went to the trouble of telling you all of this. Well, perhaps my intentions weren't completely magnanimous gesture."

Percy gave the glittering-eyed deity a wary squint. "How do you mean? Wait, no, let me guess. You have a favor to ask me, right? Or rather, you have a task for me that's non-negotiable even though it's vaguely disguised as a favor. Of course, you'll try to throw in something for me so that it paints you in a benevolent light where I wouldn't get suspicious of your true motives. As if being used by Angra Mainyu wasn't enough, now I get to help the mighty Creator. My life is just full of wonderful beings who seek nothing more than to further my well-being!"

With a bright smile, Chaos nodded her head vigorously. "Exactly right! Congratulations on being able to see through an apparent altruistic offer with deeper subtleties that may not play out to your benefit! Truly you've come so far in such a small amount of time." Clapping her hands together, the goddess dropped her giddy persona. "I've called you an Anti-God already, don't make me regret doing so. Kill Spenta Mainyu. You already know to do this. His plans threaten your world, and I like the balance that it's struck as of right now. But, before you kill him, I need you to do something else."

"And what would that be?" The son of Poseidon asked wearily, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

Chaos' face was impassive as she spoke. "Kill Angra Mainyu."

Percy's face dropped as he glared at the Primordial of Creation. "Bullshit. I can't do something so ludicrous."

"You think too little of yourself then," Chaos responded without emotion.

"Fuck you. He's an asshole sure, but he also helped me get stronger to protect my friends and family. I won't betray him," Percy said heatedly, his voice rising with each passing moment. He felt his mind race at the implications of what Chaos wanted him to accomplish. There would be no way for him to kill a deity the likes of Ahriman. It would be practically improbable. Then again, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he would have needed to achieve something equally as difficult. Killing Spenta Mainyu probably would have been on par with killing Angra Mainyu, and yet that had been his intention since he was trained his Purgatory. Then again, he'd expected to be helped by the God of Evil and his new friends as well. If he tried to kill Ahriman, he'd likely be alone in his venture. If that were the case, odds were not in his favor for victory against such a powerful god.

"Your sense of loyalty never ceases to amaze me," Chaos responded nonchalantly, ignoring Percy's expletives directed her way. "Yet as you said, this is non-negotiable. And once again as you said, I have something to sweeten the deal. Unfortunately, it also acts as the final nail in the coffin."

Without further explanation, Chaos snapped her fingers. The air rippled to Percy's left, and when he looked he nearly fell out of his chair. Thirty figures stood rigidly in a neat row, hands pressed against their sides, legs straight and unbending. Their eyes were all closed, though the gentle rise and fall of their chests calmed Percy's nerves a bit. The son of Poseidon felt his body tremble as he gazed upon the faces of friends and comrades that he had lost in the past. Those who he had failed to protect, who deserved to have a second chance at life if ever they were to be given one.

"Phoebe of Megara, Lee Fletcher, Zoë Nightshade, Michael Yew, Castor Fields, Luke Castellan, Bianca di Angelo, Charles Beckendorf, Silena Beauregard, Kinzie of the Amazons, and a menagerie of campers and hunters to boot," Chaos listed off casually as she stared at the bodies that stood like stones. "Of course, I made sure to bring back those closest to you in some way. Imagine, returning to the Greco/Roman world lauded as a hero for bringing back so many friends and family members."

Percy stood up, his legs shaky as he stumbled forward, staring at the sight before him. "What's the catch?" Percy muttered, afraid to know the answer.

"I'm glad you asked. Agree to help me and I will bring them all back. I had to plead for quite some time with my mother so that she would turn a blind eye to me interfering so much. But in the end, she saw that this was worth breaking a few laws. Having you on our side, oh yes, very much so," Chaos said with a smile. "Oh, don't worry by the way. This was completely consensual on their parts as well. None would have looming regrets over being resurrected. On the other hand, the catch is, if you refuse to kill Ahriman, I'll scatter their essence to the wind, destroying them completely. They will find no peace in any afterlife, only oblivion, and it will have been completely your fault for refusing me."

The son of Poseidon clenched his hands and tightened his jaw. His teeth ground against one another painfully in his mouth as he attempted to control the surge of anger that coursed through him. "You fucking bitch."

Chaos laughed loudly at Percy's declaration. "You wound me, Percy! Did you really believe me to be one who would allow the chips to fall where they may? Did you think I wouldn't stack the deck in my favor? Don't be so naïve, my little Anti-God. No, I didn't tell them what would happen to them if you were to refuse. In fact, they thought that I would just resurrect them on the spot. Alas, they didn't read the fine print of dealing with deities."

"You expect me to kill Angra Mainyu?" Percy asked, his voice defeated once he realized that he had no choice in the matter. Whether he thought it foolish or not, his hands were tied now that Chaos had revealed her hand. "I've tried that before, didn't work out the way I'd hoped."

"True, but now you know that he heals himself through curses. You don't have anything to combat those at the moment, but I'm sure that you'll find something to help with that problem. After all, you have friends who know a thing or two about crafting incredible weapons from all sorts of materials. But if you really need a bigger hint, a blessing is always a good start when countering a curse," Chaos offered, her voice filled with content.

Percy moved his eyes away from the line of bodies, and back to the Primordial of Creation. "Killing him would be catastrophic for humanity."

Chaos nodded her head seriously. "The curse of All the World's Evils. This is why I dislike those other 'supreme gods'. Believing that they can do what they will without consequence." She sighed distastefully as her face soured. "Let me deal with the fallout of that curse. You focus on killing Angra Mainyu. He's been allowed far too much freedom to do as he pleases. I won't have it any longer."

With that said, Chaos leaned back in her chair allowing a coquettish expression to settle onto her face. "Do we have an accord, Anti-God?"

A tense silence settled over the room. Percy's eyes flitted between his fallen comrades and the Primordial of Creation, who held a self-satisfied air about her. He bit his lip as he thought about the offer. A minute later he came to a decision.

"No."

Arching her eyebrow, the dark-haired primordial let her features drop into a scowl. "No? You dare to refuse my generous offer?" She growled, the air around her shimmering as her anger affected reality itself.

Percy turned to face the indignant goddess with a stony visage. "I'll kill Angra Mainyu if it guarantees their safety," The former demigod said, motioning toward the listless bodies. "But I don't want them resurrected. They all deserved Elysium for their deeds, and I don't have any right taking away their well-earned rest. So wherever you took them from, I want you to send them back. Let them sit this one out so that the living can take care of this mess."

Chaos' eye twitched when she heard Percy's decision. Her lip curled up and she sneered at the son of Poseidon. "If that's what you want then very well. I'll erase their memory of ever meeting me and allow them to remain in their respective afterlives. Be warned though, I still have the authority to destroy them should I find you attempting to forsake our little entente."

The twinkling-eyed diety flicked her wrist dismissively, and the row of bodies disappeared from view. Percy nodded his head and took his seat once again. "Is there anything else you wanted?" Percy asked. "Would you like me to kill the Hindu Trimurti while I'm at it? Or maybe you'd prefer I destroy all the gods not of your creation in one go? Does that sound good to you?"

Chaos took note of the sarcasm and simply shrugged. "If you want to, go ahead. I have little interest in the others. As long as their goals do not seek to destroy the balance as it has been set then I care not what those gods do." She stood up and looked to her parents. "Mother, father, thank you for the audience with Percy. I believe it's about time that I took him back to where he truly belongs, though."

Chronos and Ananke nodded in confirmation. Both looked slightly disgruntled, but neither said anything else as Chaos motioned Percy to follow her out the door.

Percy and Chaos stepped out of the throne room and back into the grand hallway. The son of Poseidon felt his head spinning as he sorted through the revelations that had taken place throughout the day. Too many things had changed for his taste. First the relationship problems with Scáthach and then what all had happened with Chaos. Now he was stuck with killing Angra Mainyu, the God of Evil. He doubted his day could get any worse than it was, but knowing his terrible luck something else would come along and ruin it to the point of no salvation.

"Well, that was a productive conversation!" Chaos chirped. "I'll give you a bit more information and whatnot regarding Ahriman at a later date. My mother has granted me _very_ limited interaction with you. I probably won't visit in person very much, but you can expect some form of correspondence soon enough. Just remember, I want the God of Evil dead before his brother."

Percy didn't respond right away, instead opting to stare straight ahead, gathering his thoughts. Chaos looked at him oddly, before waving her hand in front of his face. Percy blinked himself out of the small stupor and turned to see the primordial shaking her head.

"I heard you well enough," Percy said. His shoulders sagged. "What now?"

"Now I take you back. You have a plane to catch in a few days back to the United States," Chaos responded, waving a pair of boarding passes in front of the young man's face. "Your benefactor will be busy in Persia for a while longer, but I'm almost positive that he would like for you to make contact with the Greeks and Romans once again. Soon, a consolidation of forces will be taking place across the supernatural world. Undoubtedly he'll want to join up with the Five Great Pantheons."

Percy took the boarding passes from the goddess and looked at them. Folding them a couple of times he slid the papers into his pocket. "Those were for Edinburgh Airport. How-"

"-I took the liberty to send you two a car so that you can drive yourselves down to Edinburgh. Road trips are just the best way to get to know your significant other, right?" Chaos asked coyly.

Just as Percy opened his mouth to respond, Chaos placed her hand on his shoulder and he felt the distinctive feeling of being teleported. He felt his feet land on something solid, allowing himself a window to gain his bearings before he keeled over. Thankfully, the feeling was nowhere near as horrendous as it had been when they had teleported to the center of the universe. Percy opened his eyes and saw Scáthach peering at him with worried eyes. She walked up to him, stopping a few feet away. The waves sounded as they crashed against the backdrop of Broadford Bay.

"Percy?" Scáthach's voice helped ground him as he shook his nausea from his system.

Giving his friend an apologetic smile, the young man looked out at the setting sun. "We've got a lot of work to do, Scáthach. I'll tell you about it as we go."

The witch gave Percy a skeptical glance. "Go? Where are we going?"

Pulling the two passes from his pocket, Percy flashed them to his companion. "We're going back to the States. I'm going home."

* * *

 **End Chapter A/N: There we go. The meeting with Chaos, who is a bit of a bitch, and Percy is finally going to meet with his old companions once more. In addition, he's been given a whole new task, which seems impossible for him. Just a warning, the next chapter might take longer to get out, since people are calling in sick to my work like crazy, and I'm getting called to fill in for those guys. Considering that I'm a poor student, I kinda need that extra money. Either way, the next chapter will probably come out in two weeks, but with mid-terms also approaching, I've gotta hunker down and brace for the coming storm. Thank you for understanding in advance.**


	11. On a Red Horse, He Rode

**A/N: It's been a while. I know I said two weeks but due to school and the general length of this chapter it took a but longer than I expected. Either way, I'm sure you're all sick of these Author's Notes, so we'll jump right into the nitty-gritty.**

 _ **Reviews:**_

 **Aetemus- I'm sorry this story wasn't to your liking. Hopefully you find others to your taste!**

 **sirGLOCKSalot- Thanks for your kind words!**

 **Trigger-Happy Texan- I don't recall exactly where the idea came from, but for some reason I realized that the moniker would work for Percy fairly well given the context. Sorry this chapter came out later than you'd hoped. Thanks for the review!**

 **Schetz- I can understand your point, as well as Aetemus'. I had originally planned for Chaos having a bit of a larger role when I was planning out the general story outline, but I realized how little say Percy had in choosing his own path, that I scrapped most of Chaos' interaction with Percy. Even now, my plans for Chaos and the story as a whole will revolve around Percy and the problems he faces due to his own actions. From the beginning I wanted to make it so that Percy was struggling to take control of his life after the deal he made with Angra Mainyu, and this was just another step into bringing him into the character I envisioned. Thank you for your thoughts and review!**

 **MasterTrident13- Yeah, I felt having those who died come back would kinda create few stakes in the overall war as a whole. If Chaos went far enough to resurrect his friends, then she would more than likely have no qualms about resurrecting anybody who died in the war. Of course, not even Chaos has the final say in everything that happens in the universe, and not everything will go as she hopes or planned. Fate is a fickle mistress after all. Thanks for your review!**

 **spnaph- My friend! Good to be writing to you once more! I'm glad you enjoyed my play with Chaos and the story I built for the genesis of the universe. I obviously gained inspiration from a few religious sources as well as some other forms of media and my own general imagination. Originally Chaos was meant to be a love interest for Percy, but I have since scrapped that idea due to the fact that I wanted something a bit more antagonistic in the end. Sorry about the grammatical errors by the way! I generally try to edit my work to the best of my ability, but sometimes reading through a ten thousand word chapter several times can grow tedious, even if it's my own work. At times it feels like I'm two inches from my screen, squinting at the damn thing trying to catch mistakes and whatnot. Anyway, thanks for the review my good friend!**

 **theweird1234- Admittedly, even I found myself narrowing my eyes at the way I wrote her.**

 **justafan- Haha, I'm glad that my version of Chaos could elicit such a reaction from somebody. I don't find it weird that you see Angra Mainyu as you see fit. I can't confirm or deny any of your ideas, since imagination is the good form of suspense for a reader, so I'll leave you to keep coming up with theories. I will admit though, you have some good ones there. Funny you should mention Chaos being a yandere, though, because I'd originally intended to write her a bit more obsessed with Percy, but eventually scrapped that idea. Thanks for your review!**

 **Kindred Scarlet- I'm glad that you like my work. Thanks for your review!**

 **cmneuses19- Sent a PM.**

 **HaywireEagle- Actually the reference was to Ajax being the "bulwark of Achaeans" in the Illiad, showing that Percy was honorarily a major strength of the Greek forces of his time, just like Ajax was thousands of years prior. Admittedly when I wrote the sword section I was looking for a reason to give him a sword with longer reach, considering that the Xiphos was generally a sword on the shorter side. Some descriptions of Percy's sword say that it was three feet in length, which is fairly long for a single-handed weapon like the traditional Xiphos. I understand that it's all creative license with Rick's work, so I figured I might as well change it up a bit as well. Regarding the sword materials, I actually realize that carbon-based steel is typically the best form of metal to use when forging a sword. People still use steel to this very day in order to make swords, which goes to prove that truly it is the best combination of durability and flexibility. Titanium would be too soft to use, even though it would be objectively harder to break completely. Tungsten would be far too brittle, and might crack with the first swing due to it's very nature. Heliotrope isn't even a metal, meaning that making it into an alloy component would be quite ridiculous. When I was writing the procedure, I took a variety of different ideas and simply melded them together, quite lazily, and chalked it down to Muramasa's supernatural skill along with a bunch of different procedures done off screen. On the bright side, I didn't make it completely outlandish in terms of form right? With regards to Percy's loss of his demigod status, it was something I had planned from the beginning. I suppose my execution was off, my bad haha. I don't actually think this would fit as a good crossover with Fate. I took a few minor elements from the greater Nasuverse and twisted them slightly to fit the story and my needs. If I had included completely original characters to the Nasuverse like Shirou, Rin, Zelretch, ORT, Shiki, etc, I would definitely have set this bad boy down in the crossover section. As it stands, Gae Bolg's special ability and Scathach's appearance are really the only things that I would see as being solely attributed to Type-Moon. Scathach and Angra Mainyu are both legends from their respective cultures, with their back-stories being taken from their own myths and changed to fit my needs as I saw fit. I have to fully agree that if Angra Mainyu had simply asked, things probably would have gone far differently. Thanks for your thoughts and review!**

 **zen-aku the spirit of the wolf- References galore! Although I didn't even notice the Highschool DxD one. Subconsciously perhaps?**

 **Disclaimer: I do not make any money off this work of fanfiction. All rights for the characters in Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus go to Rick Riordan and all who were involved in the creation of the novels.**

* * *

11\. On a Red Horse, He Rode

* * *

 _With Percy…_

Percy stared out at the rolling waves of white clouds below his position. The sun had been a constant companion on the flight back to the United States. It was only natural considering that as the airplane flew over the Atlantic Ocean, they were moving west, the same direction in which the sun set. As such it stood to reason that even as time passed hour by tedious hour the sun never dipped below the horizon; thusly, Percy's internal clock was far from normalized. Occasionally the plane would bank to the left or right, which would lead to the sun moving away from his direct line of sight.

The young man sighed as he sunk lower into the comfortable plane seat. Thankfully, Chaos, for all her manipulative fashions, had taken it upon herself to give him and his partner seats in first class. Due to the type of airplane that they were in, the seats were situated in pairs, with one right next to the other, forming six rows. Wide aisles allowed both passengers and crew members to walk freely to and from the front of the plane back to the economy class section. What Percy found novel was that the seats could actually slide out and extend, becoming small beds for a single person's use. He hadn't used the function, but Scáthach had been more than willing to test it out. Percy deduced that the hybrid seats must have made for comfortable mattresses when he considered that his magenta-haired friend had been asleep for the better part of five hours.

The flight was set to take nearly eight hours to get to J.F.K International Airport from Edinburgh, meaning that the duo had already traveled more than half the time and distance. They didn't have to wait on any luggage, meaning that as soon as they stepped off the plane it would be straight to asking for a cab or finding a car to rent.

Not for the first time did Percy find himself silently praising Scáthach's ingenuity. Had she not brought her credit card with her the two of them would have been in a bind. The son of Poseidon looked over at his sleeping friend, seeing that she was turned away from him, facing the aisle. The steady rise and fall of her shoulder and back indicated that she was probably still fast asleep, taking a well-needed rest.

Truth be told Percy, too, felt exhausted from the interactions of the past few days. He'd been on the ground, fighting an ancient and powerful deity at the start of a new, massive conflict. During that very fight he'd feared for his life like never before. The only exception would perhaps be when he had encountered Tartarus, the primordial himself. Truly, that had been one of the most gut-wrenching interactions he'd faced. Crom Cruach, while not as initially terrifying like Tartarus had been, grew into a feared foe as their battle progressed. The fact that he seemed to regenerate practically all damage done to him was simply too dangerous to ignore. Even Percy had limitations set on his own healing abilities. Crom, however, had been able to heal after having his head split in two and having been completely bisected from shoulder to hip.

Logic stated that it shouldn't have been possible for him to accomplish such a miraculous feat. Then again, he was a god. Divine beings had the tendency to defy the natural order of things. Percy was sure that the god's regeneration was directly correlated to a domain of his. He wasn't sure which it was though; as such, the former demigod was at a loss in regards to that aspect of the silver-haired deity.

Percy glanced once more at the witch of Dún Scáith. He fondly smiled at her slightly curled form as she rested. During their small road trip to Edinburgh Percy divulged most of his meeting with Chaos to his magenta-haired friend. He omitted all forms of discussion regarding the genesis of the universe, not wishing to incur the wrath of Chronos, but apart from that he had included everything else.

Scáthach, understandably, had been shocked when Percy admitted that he was planning on killing Angra Mainyu just like Chaos had asked. Even further, Percy clearly stated that he felt little remorse in considering to kill the God of Evil. He was unsure why that was, but in the end it worked for him and his eventual goal. Getting rid of someone like Angra Mainyu was necessary for the future of the world; this, Percy was quite aware of. The white-haired god manipulated events to his liking far too often. It would only be a matter of time before he went too far and caused irreparable damage to the balance.

Scáthach had also been fairly aggrieved when she heard of how Chaos had exploited her station in order to secure Percy's cooperation. Even so, the witch understood that Chaos handled the situation with expert care. That seemed to impress the magenta-haired warrior to an extent, though her displeasure was not suppressed regardless. With all being said, the five hour drive from Broadford to Edinburgh was uneventful, if somewhat tense. Due to them leaving Broadford soon after Percy's discussion with the primordials, they had arrived in the Scottish capital three days early for their flight. Thus, the duo had spent those three days enjoying the what the city had to offer after they had made arrangements to stay at a hotel near the airport. Scáthach had been quite smitten with the city as they toured the area. She insisted on eating at many local diners to experience the regional cuisine. Percy had humored her as they roamed the streets of Edinburgh side by side, walking calmly and occasionally stopping at a shop that caught one of their eyes.

While they could have used the car that Chaos gave them, Scáthach stated that she was tired of driving and wanted to smell the Scottish air. Considering that it was a fairly dense city Percy couldn't really feel the clean air like he had on the Isle of Skye, though Scáthach insisted that the fresh scent was still there.

After their three days were up they had boarded the plane and Scáthach had promptly tested the chair-beds to see if they were any good. As such their situation was thus; with the witch of Dún Scáith sleeping through the flight while Percy simply attempted to drive the growing anxiety out of his mind. Soon, perhaps too soon for his liking, he would be facing a group of people that were sure to have multitudes of questions. Additionally, he'd have to speak to both Thalia and Annabeth.

Yes, when he thought about it those two were perhaps what were driving his blood pressure through the roof. His finger restlessly tapped on the arm of his seat while he bit the inside of his lip, tearing the tissue and tasting blood. He sighed and shook his head with grim humor.

' _Fighting gods… oh sure point me in their direction. Talking about your feelings… eh… I'd rather take the murderous gods at that point.'_

The son of Poseidon let loose a wry chuckle as he leaned his head back against the seat. The cushioned chair allowed for his head to sink a bit into the comfortable material. Percy closed his eyes, sure that sleep would elude him, but even if it was a facsimile, people could always be fooled into believing it was real.

* * *

 _Olympus…_

The gods were agitated. A problem in and of itself. The other problem was that she had no idea why they were in such an aggravated state. Annabeth's stormy-grey eyes stared at the ornate doors that lead to the Olympian council room. She had been discussing the war efforts against the Fire Jötnar of Muspelheim with her mother, when Zeus had appeared in the throne room and called for a council meeting. That being said, since Annabeth wasn't an Olympian, she had been asked to leave even though the discussion she'd been having with her mother was quite important.

Athena had been worried that the Fire Jötnar were retreating further into Muspelheim to amalgamate their smaller individual retinues into a larger unit. The natives of Muspelheim were fierce warriors in their own right, with each being a difficult opponent for anybody that wasn't a god. The Norse demigods had valiantly fought the giants when Surtr, the de facto king of Muspelheim and all Eldjötnar, forced a declaration of war through his invasion of Niflheim _(1)_ and Alfheim _(2)._ The Fire King's rapid mobilization of his forces left the Æsir-Vanir coalition _(3)_ scrambling to prepare their own front-line warriors.

In the end, Surtr had managed to raze nearly a third of Alfheim before he retreated from the realm of the Light Elves. In his wake, he had left burning forests and immolated corpses of the surprised Ljosalf _(4)_.

The fighting in Niflheim had been more aggrandized, due to Hel being fiercely territorial of her given lands. She had rallied the forces of her undead guard into defense of the last home they would ever have. It had been surprising to learn that Niflheim had withstood the primary wave of invaders, with the line of skirmish never moving far into Hel's primary territory.

The Eldjötnar invasion had happened nearly ten months ago. Since that time, they had fallen back from Niflheim in order to secure their own lands in Muspelheim. More than that though, it was a well-known fact that Fire Giants needed high-temperature environments in order to sustain their health. Through some form of homeostasis, it appeared that if the Eldjötnar were separated from their typical atmosphere for long, it would have profound effects on the physical abilities. This was one of the reasons that they could not force prolonged engagements with their enemies in foreign territories. As such, when their initial invasion of Niflheim had been repelled, the forces of Muspelheim had left Hel's realm in order to ensure that they would not sustain heavy losses in a retaliatory attack.

From that point onward, the warriors of Asgard had decided to take the fight to the Fire Giants. Unfortunately, the incredibly inhospitable environment of Muspelheim made attacking Surtr a slog. The massive rivers of lava and the ash in the air caused warriors no small amount of grief. In order to gain even a small foothold in the dangerous territory, a few gods had been required to put up a series of large dome-like barriers that filtered the poisonous air into something breathable.

It was then that the surprise had been sprung on the Norse. The residents of Jotunheim _(5)_ had aligned themselves with Surtr's forces, leading to a large-scale conflict. During the times of peace that had gripped the Norse realms it was only natural that the numbers of Jötnar increased. Most of them were relatively weak when compared to gods, but there were some that could fight on par with even Thor and Freyja, two of the most fearsome warriors in the Norse pantheon. Not only had the Jötnar increased their own population, but the had created a multitude of draugar _(6)_ in order to fight on the front-lines of the war. With their army gathered, the Jötnar had moved from Jotunheim and into Svartalfheim _(7)_ , where the Dark Elves and Dwarves made their home. Even though the dwarves declared their neutrality early in the war between Surtr and Asgard, they had still been targeted. The Dark Elves had moved to isolate themselves even further, but when they too refused to side with the Jötnar, they had been attacked.

The worlds of the Norse were in turmoil as war plagued most of the nine realms. It during the invasion of Svartalfheim that the Norse called upon the Greeks and Romans for aid. The Olympians were hesitant to leave their own lands and venture into unknown territory, and as such they dawdled as much as they could, sending in smaller parties of spirits and expendable forces. Hephaestus, in collaboration with the Dwarves, had begun to mass produce automatons that could act as fodder for the war machine. Soon, the idea picked up much support, and the Cyclopes within Poseidon's realm were soon called into service to help build the automatons.

It had been difficult garnering support to send more aid in the form of Greco-Roman demigod volunteers, though, leaving the Norse to do most of the bleeding on their own. While there were a few groups of half-bloods who were willing to actively assist the Norse, the numbers were still below thirty, counting between both Roman and Greek camps. Many gods were against their children fighting at the front of another war, and for foreigners no less, leaving many of the volunteers without support. Annabeth herself was ambivalent towards the thought of being heavily involved in the Norse war. In one regard, she understood that if the Asgardians didn't receive more aid, they would suffer heavy casualties amongst the lower ranks. Yet, even with that thought fresh in her mind, she couldn't bring herself to suggest considering sending in the volunteer forces of her own kin.

Her personal musings were interrupted when the doors to the council room opened once more. Athena strode out with a look of consternation marring her beautiful face. The goddess sighed heavily and shook her head as the doors closed once more, rubbing circles into her temples in an alleviating manner. Annabeth walked to her mother with anxiety. It was rare for Athena to allow herself to show exasperation or doubt, and her daughter knew that very well. The goddess had her pride as an Olympian, and enjoyed to maintain herself as a proper and stern woman.

"Mother," Annabeth started, her eyes concerned. "Did something happen? Zeus seemed particularly troubled."

Athena nodded and gestured for Annabeth to follow her. The mother-daughter pair walked the path that led away from the council room and into the gardens. As the magnificent stone walkway opened up into a large circular area, Athena took to finding the nearest bench. The Goddess of Wisdom planted herself down and crossed one leg over the other as she stared at the fountain directly in front of her. Two jets of water crossed one another, creating a fine mist over the fountain as the droplets of water sprayed across the area.

"It would seem," Athena paused slightly as she placed a hand on her chin. "The ethereal energy that permeated the world is stabilizing and not rising any longer. While that is for the best, I can't help but worry that the energy was a bi-product of something. Or perhaps it was some precursor…" The goddess trailed off, her eyes staring at the water flowing from the fountain.

"But what would it mean?" Annabeth asked, her confusion evident. Everyone, from demigod to Olympian, had felt the massive influx of ethereal power that had enveloped the world four days prior. While the half-bloods had been unable to sense it, Annabeth had felt four distinct areas where the build-up was most prominent. Yet as she was only a minor goddess, it was difficult for her to precisely deduce the location of each signature. Her mother, on the other hand, was more than eager to point out that each signature was somewhere with some form of significance. Calakmul in Mexico was a place of worship to the Mayan gods when they still inhabited the world. In Scotland, Athena guessed that it was either Dún Scáith or Tech Duinn that was suspect, both holding Celtic importance. Angkor Wat was easily recognized as both a Hindu and Buddhist temple, obviously under the Devas' jurisdiction. Finally came Iraq, or rather the ruins of Babylon. The city was well known for being incredible during the times of Mesopotamia being a world power, but Athena was unsure of what it could otherwise.

"Well, each of those locations probably had their own form of power attached to them. Somebody could have attempted to siphon that power for an―as of yet―unidentified purpose." The goddess shook her head with narrowed eyes. "Yet, we are completely unaware of what it means, or who did it. Troublesome news indeed."

Annabeth took notice of the wording her mother used. "Could have? As in it's passed on all four sites?" She had not felt any disturbance as of late, yet she knew that her mother was more attuned to sensing such forms of energy.

"Nearly. The energy first disappeared from Dún Scáith the day after it appeared. Then, just yesterday, the flow was also disrupted in Mexico and Cambodia. Only the energy in Iraq remains, and even then it sits complacent and unchanging," Athena answered curtly.

"Was that why the meeting was called?" Annabeth queried.

The Goddess of Wisdom shook her head in response. "No, this meeting pertained to more pressing matters. It would appear that Apophis has finally made his decisive move."

The blonde architect's eyes widened when she heard mention of the Egyptian deity of darkness. While the Egyptians were fairly untrusting of the Greeks and Romans, they had been sure to update the five major pantheons to their condition in the fight against Apophis. In fact, all of the pantheons gave semi-regular reports on the vague situation they were in, be it good or bad. The new form of communication helped build positive relationships with the messengers of each report. The hope was that some goodwill could be passed from culture to culture, uniting each group even further.

"As you know, Apophis is a deity of darkness and chaos, but also of reptilian creatures. His original form takes the likeness of a massive serpent, and it is how he is often depicted in art. With his position as King of Reptiles, he has formed a group consisting of the most powerful reptiles to ever walk the earth," Athena explained, her voice sounding weary. "The most powerful in his group so far consist of Níðhǫggr, Vritra, Aži Dahāka, Jörmungandr, Kaliya, Fafnir and Yamata no Orochi. Unfortunately, we have scant information regarding this group, such as motivations and structure of their conglomerate."

There was a moment's pause where Annabeth took the time to analyze what she'd been told.

Dragons.

Apophis had gathered a group of legendary dragons for whatever he was planning. Each of the dragons on their own was terrifying, considering that in most of their legends it had taken a god to kill or subdue each. Now those legendary beasts had been gathered by one god. Annabeth wasn't sure if Apophis controlled them somehow due to his domain over reptiles, or if they were autonomous to some extent; though, it wouldn't really matter if they still cooperated to some extent. Each dragon named was a being of power that few mortals could match. If Apophis were to attack with his group, it would take no less that an equal amount of gods to combat him. Or perhaps even more.

In addition, the blonde architect doubted that a minor god could be one to defeat a single dragon. If Apophis were to bring the legendary dragons into a massive battle, the major gods would be required to focus on the greater threats. A shift in concentration like that could turn the tides of war if done properly.

"That's… not good for us, is it?" Annabeth asked tiredly.

Athena frowned. "As of yet, it has nothing to do with us directly. Apophis has shown no aggression towards any pantheon but the Egyptians. Eventually he might target the other great pantheons, but so far we can plan without interruption of battle. For now, you can return to Camp Half-Blood. I know you were planning a few extra renovations, so I won't hold you too much longer here. While you're there, however, I would like you to speak with Chiron about the volunteer force that some of the half-bloods suggested. I fear we may have to seriously consider sending our own children in order to aid the Asgardians."

Nodding, Annabeth moved forward and brought her mother into an awkward embrace. Due to the blonde being on her feet she had to bend down at an odd angle. Even so, Athena reciprocated that hug, patting her daughter on the back a few times. Annabeth relished in the warmth that her mother provided her, as well as the confidence that surged into her.

"I'll talk to you again soon. If you ever need anything, I'm always more than happy to help, okay?" Annabeth said seriously. When she saw Athena nod, the architect smiled. She backed up, and gave her mother a wave. Before she could leave, Annabeth received a question from her mother.

"Will you be one of those that would volunteer to help the Norse should it come to that?"

The blonde tightened her lips into a thin line as she looked away from the Olympian. "Yes. If I know him, he'll be on the front lines, fighting as hard as he can. Undoubtedly, this building conflict was why he was taken from us. With that in mind, then it only makes sense that he would be fighting against the injustice in this world right? That's just who Percy is. I know I'll find him again."

Athena stared at her daughter, a creeping grief enclosing around her heart. Five years. It had been five years, yet Annabeth's faith in finding her lost lover had remained. While there had been moments of weakness and much self-loathing, Athena could admire the fire that burned in her daughter's heart.

While it was unclear why the Zoroastrian God of Evil took Percy away to start, many conclusions had been drawn in the years following. Through it all, Annabeth had been certain that Percy would survive and return to them. True enough, Athena too felt that Percy's return was irrefutable. The only question was when that inevitable time would come.

* * *

 _New Jersey…_

A volley of arrows ripped through the air, whistling as they flew toward their intended target. Leaves were punctured and fell to the ground as they were torn off their respective branches. The soft light of the moon illuminated the gaps between the trees. Some of the arrows planted themselves in the trunks of the white cedar trees that grew densely around the area. A few arrows missed their target, splashing into the shallow waters of the dark swamp. Two particular arrows, however, found what they had been fired at. A shrill bleat sounded throughout the cool, April night, signaling that the hunted had been struck and wounded.

Water splashed as several pairs of feet rushed through the dimly lit swamp. Silhouettes of humans passed and cast shadows as they ran between the cedars, following the trail that had been left by their prey. A pair of electric-blue eyes led the fore, quickly scanning the surrounding area in order to ensure no misstep was made.

Thalia led her sisters-in-arms on their hunt of a fairly unimpressive beast. The Jersey Devil was a creature that, while frightening to any normal human, was hardly worth the effort of hunting for a maiden of Artemis. Still, she and her group had been in the area when the creature had shown itself, stalking the outskirts of Atlantic City during the cover of night. Normally, Thalia wouldn't have bothered the creature, however her mistress had left for a meeting on Olympus, leaving the Hunt with scant else to do in the large city. Five years had done wonders for gathering new members to Artemis' group, and their numbers had shot from less that thirty, to a whopping seventy-three. Now, the group was far too large to travel as one coherent pack, leading to the Hunt constantly splitting up.

As it was, Thalia lead five of the newest members to the Hunt, helping them gain a bit more experience. She had asked the remaining hunters to keep a low-profile in Atlantic City so that she could take the new members to hunt the Jersey Devil. After the daughter of Zeus had left Victoria, the most senior hunter, in charge of the larger group, she had promptly given chase to the hybrid beast that prowled the night. They had run at a brisk pace for three hours until they reached a murky swamp in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey.

By the position of the moon, Thalia assumed that it was nearing midnight, meaning that the girls she had brought along with her would probably be experiencing an all-night hunt. While she didn't mind being out for such a length of time, the lieutenant of Artemis certainly would have liked to be hunting a worthy monster. Instead she was forced to take a pitiful creature that had little intention of fighting back it seemed. She was no sadist, taking no pleasure in prolonging a beast's terror of being the prey. As such, she was hoping to find and kill the already wounded Jersey Devil sooner rather than later. The two arrows she fired had found their target, embedding themselves in the monster's shoulder, meaning it would be easier to track and finish off.

Wading through the roots that constricted their path, the hunters tried their best to listen for the ragged breathing of the Jersey Devil. Each of the girls was tired, having run for longer than what they were accustomed to. This led to them also having trouble catching their breath. Unfortunately, Thalia knew that if they couldn't control their breathing, the monster would be alerted to the presence of the hunters. She slowed her pace in response to her thoughts, realizing it would be better to have the girls stabilize their breath before encountering the beast once more.

Several more minutes passed as the group of six made their advance. Finally, Thalia raised her hand. The group stopped all movement, and Thalia gestured to a small clearing where the trees were less bunched. There, lapping up some water from the swamp, sat the Jersey Devil. It was a grotesque being, one with the head of a goat and the wings of a bat. It had long, thin appendages that formed its hands and legs, with very little muscle on the bone. Sharp claws adorned the end of each of its four fingers, and hooves made themselves apparent as it shifted weight from leg to leg. To top of the appearance of a true devil, were a pair of long horns on the top of its head, each pointing forward, looking sharp and dangerous in the low light.

The other hunters raised their bows, each preparing an arrow. Thalia herself didn't ready her weapon, being content to signal the monster's imminent demise. Even though the girls were fairly new to the Hunt, each had already been given basic training lessons regarding the bow. Truly, none of them should miss a stationary monster, no more than thirty feet away from them. The monster was blissfully unaware of the arrows pointed in its direction, even as it rested its head slightly, groaning pitifully as blood dripped down from the two arrows still lodged in its back. Thalia felt a twinge of remorse before she raised her hand and slightly twitched her fingers.

Five arrows whistled through the air, alerting the Jersey Devil at the last moment of its fate. The monster had time to raise its head before two arrows pierced its neck, and the other three hit its side, sinking into the flesh and more than likely puncturing a few vital organs. With a blood-curdling shriek, the monster tried to push itself off of the ground and run once more; however, Thalia knew there was no point anymore. The creature fell over as its legs gave out from under it. The group made their way to the Jersey Devil, and Thalia kneeled down beside the dying beast. Blood was flowing in restrained rivulets down into the swamp water with each of the monster's ragged breaths. Pulling out her hunting knife, the daughter of Zeus cut the Devil's throat quickly.

"Hm, I was wondering why it didn't fly away," Thalia muttered as she picked up one of the monster's wings. There were several tears in the leathery substance that were slightly scabbed over. She dropped the bat-like wing and shook her head. "It must have gotten in a fight with another monster and gotten itself injured. Couldn't fly after that, so it had to find an easier source of food in the city."

"But why such a big city? Aren't monsters like this usually afraid to go into heavily populated areas?" Asked one of the hunters, Jillian, if Thalia was remembering correctly.

"Normally that's the case, but monsters that usually have the ability to fly rely on that to get them their food. They can swoop down and pick up their prey, before dropping them to kill it. That way, there is little risk of being injured if the prey decided to fight back. As you can see," Thalia pointed at the Devil's stringy limbs. "This kind of monster doesn't rely on brute strength to get its food. Meaning that without flight, it needed a way to get food easily and without a hassle. Rats and small animals like cats are easier to find in larger towns and cities. If it came to it, the Jersey Devil could also probably scrounge in trash cans for any food thrown away by humans. Easy hunting."

The girls all nodded in understanding. Thalia was smart enough and had the experience to realize that their small hunt had been little more than vanity killing. She sighed and prepared herself to decapitate the corpse, but she was stopped by a flash of bright silver light. Reflexively closing her eyes, the lieutenant knew that her mistress had returned to them.

"Thalia," Artemis' voice sounded a bit surprised. "Why are we in the Pine Barrens?"

"Ah, well, after you left somebody spotted this Jersey Devil," Thalia explained, pointing to the monster with her knife. "I decided to take a few of our newer recruits out for a late night hunt. Too bad the damn thing proved fast even though it has basically no muscle on its body. So we were led on for hours until we finally got a few good hits in."

The goddess arched an eyebrow with slight amusement. "You had so much trouble with a simple Jersey Devil? Do I need to look for another lieutenant?" Her good-natured tone let Thalia know that it was meant in jest.

"Like anybody else could deal with you as much as I do," the blue-eyed girl shot back with a huff. "So what news do you bring from Olympus?"

Artemis pursed her lips and shook her head. "The situation across the world is deteriorating. There is trouble brewing, even more than usual. Do you remember those large signatures of power that you felt not too long ago?"

The raven-haired lieutenant nodded her head. It had been nearly impossible to miss the way that the atmosphere almost instantly became charged with an unknown energy. When it had first started, Thalia had been unable to shake the slight prickling feeling that raked over her skin every moment of the day. Random bursts of adrenaline would fill her body as her mind prepared to fight for her life from an unseen foe. Sleep had not come easy for the past four days, which was simply one of the reasons that she had called for the hunt of the Jersey Devil. At least if she were tired, then it would be easier for her body to force itself to rest.

Eventually, much to her relief, the ambient energy had stopped rising. It had stagnated, allowing for her body and mind to adjust slightly to the feeling. While it was still slightly uncomfortable, Thalia had learned to ignore the energy for the most part. Even so, the undertone of unsettling aggravation never truly left her.

"Yeah, I can still feel it as we speak. It's pissing me off," Thalia grunted, crossing her arms. "Was that what the meeting was about? Do you know what this is?"

Artemis replied calmly as she poked at the corpse of the Jersey Devil with her foot. "Yes and no. We aren't sure exactly what the energy is, though we know where it's coming from. Thankfully, it seems to have stopped growing so rapidly, if at all anymore. Unfortunately, the meeting pertained to a certain group of dangerous individuals that we've been alerted to. Apophis has gathered a small following of legendary dragons to his side, ranging from all different cultures and areas. Many of them are god-tier threats, meaning that if they were to act against us, we'd be placed at a disadvantage."

There were some gasps from the other girls. Thalia, for her part, let out a few choice expletives and bit her lip. Already, their Scandinavian allies had been pushed hard against Surtr's forces. Thalia and a few of the other senior hunters had asked if they could help in some way, but Artemis had been wary of allowing them to aid the Norse physically. True enough, Thalia wasn't excited to fight against an organized army after the Second Titanomachy and Second Gigantomachy. Still, she knew that leaving the Norse to fend for themselves was asking for disaster. Surtr was more than likely not ready to simply accept the Asgardian defeat, and would more than likely want to wage war on Midgard as well. That being said, she quite liked living on a planet that wasn't covered in lava and ash, meaning that even if it meant fighting once more on the front-lines, she would do so with only a little hesitation. It was a shame then, at least in her opinion, that not many shared her sentiments in the Greco/Roman cultures.

"Dragons, eh? Well damn, he's really going all-out against the Egyptians then," The daughter of Zeus responded with some discontent. "Apophis… do we know his goal at least? If it's world domination then apart from being cliche, he'll more than likely have to fight against Surtr at some point. With that in mind, we might be able to turn them against one another early on before anything escalates to the point of being unsalvageable."

"His motives are unknown," Artemis frowned. "He holds a heavy grudge against Ra, but that's a given considering their contradictory natures. He being a deity of darkness and Ra being one of light. Then, of course, one can't forget that he constantly attempted to swallow Ra's barge thousands of years ago. As it stands, I'm sure that they aren't on the best of terms. Hopefully that means that Apophis aims for simple revenge."

"But knowing gods, he won't be satisfied with just that should he succeed," Thalia guessed with a snort. "Do we know how things are at the Egyptians' home?"

Artemis shrugged casually. "No. They are understandably tight-lipped about what goes on within their territory. Either way, they'll eventually be forced to reveal something. Whether it is about their defeat or victory, well, that will rest in their own hands. However, I wish to ask you if you are still considering becoming part of the volunteer force to help the Norse."

Thalia replied slowly. "I am. We should help them now before things escalate in their part of the world. If they go down, then Surtr will have free reign of their territory, right before he launches a full-scale invasion on the rest of the earth. If we can stop him before that happens, I think things will go a lot smoother, don't you?"

The goddess gave her lieutenant a reluctant nod. "Yes, you're correct on that front. I don't like the way things are going, but eventually we may very well have to rely on sending our own kinsmen in order to assist the Norse. With that in mind, I'm going to ask that the Hunt stay at Camp Half-Blood for a week or so while the Olympians try to figure out what that energy signaled, if anything."

"If that's what you want," Thalia said.

Artemis smiled at her raven-haired friend. "Then let's go collect the rest of the Hunt and be on our way."

* * *

Scarlet-red and sea-green eyes stared at the incline that led up to their ultimate destination. The taxi that had brought them left, with Percy and Scáthach staring at the slightly imposing climb up the hill. The son of Poseidon felt his stomach twist in knots as he recalled the memories that he had of his time at camp. Five years had passed since he'd last seen those in camp. He was sure that things had changed substantially. Certainly, he hadn't stagnated in many senses of the word. Perhaps emotionally he was a bit stunted, but combat wise he'd taken massive leaps. He was far more skilled with his sword than ever before, not to mention the curses that amplified his abilities to match the gods.

Percy took a small amount of vindictive pleasure in knowing that he'd more than likely surpassed many of his old friends. He doubted that many of them could say that they'd defeated a god such as the likes of Crom Cruach. Nor had any of them been trained by a gaggle of legendary warriors from times past. At least not that he knew of. Yes, he definitely felt a sense of worth incorporating itself into his accomplishments since he'd been under the care of Angra Mainyu. Through his blood and sweat―and occasional tears―he'd grown significantly.

Percy knew that it was perhaps irrational of him to feel so pleased. He knew that there was little to gain by fueling his hubris. In the end, though, the Hero of Olympus stood tall with his hands in his pockets as he stared at Half-Blood Hill. Pride coursed through his veins as he realized that the time spent away from his old life had not been wasted. He would never allow himself to stagnate, not in the world that he lived in. So long as those he cared for were placed in danger, he could never allow himself to grow complacent. Only once the world had achieved true peace could he find it in himself to relax fully. When that day came―should it ever―he'd happily let his legacy remain untouched. Until that day, however, Percy would fight. As such, he'd always improve in some way.

Feeling a weight press itself on his shoulder, the young man turned to see Scáthach place her hand down in reassurance.

"Do you need a minute?" The woman asked gently. Her eyes bore into his own as he gave her a tired shake of his head.

"I should be good to go. I've actually spent hours going over what I would say to them. All in my mind of course," Percy replied wryly. "But as soon as I saw the hill again, I just can't bring myself to take the first step back into their world. It shouldn't be this hard, I know it shouldn't… but then… why is it that I can't stop my hand from shaking?" He asked, as his eyes dropped to his twitching fingers and trembling arm.

Scáthach grabbed his hand in her own, placing the other on his bicep as she held him close. She looked at him with a hint of understanding, before releasing his now still arm. Taking a step back, the warrior-woman gestured to the hill with her head. "That place has no power over you… that is… unless you allow it to wield sway. Trust me when I say that."

Percy nodded his head after a moment of hesitation. "You must have felt that way in Scotland, huh?"

"Yes," the witch affirmed. "It was certainly not easy to walk onto the fields where I used to walk. Where I trained my student, and where I held my daughter close. Where I watched as she grew and laughed and cried. But when you and I walked those fields… there was nothing left but ghosts and memories. The remembrance of times long past, and of what my hands will never hold again. Yet, even then, I knew that I didn't deserve to hold anything. Not her, not Setanta, nothing."

"But you kept going, even through all of that pain," Percy stated, looking away from the woman. He stared at the tree-covered hill, the sense of foreboding slowly abating as Scáthach spoke.

"Of course. I had no other option in that moment. Either move forward or die. We're warriors, Percy. We go from one battle to another, always trudging through the blood, mud, and pain to reach out goals," Scáthach replied softly. "I had no _right_ to feel guilty because I'd brought upon all of my suffering on myself. _You_ , however, have no _need_ to feel guilt or conflict," The woman said while placing a hand on his cheek. She turned his head to face her. "So hold your head up high and show them what you've accomplished. The Percy Jackson I fought on that very hill was not afraid of certain death. So then why should you, a greater man than he was, fear this?"

Percy glanced down at his feet for a few seconds as he mulled her words over. True enough, he'd been strong to face her with his crumbling resolve five years prior. Even then, when he was sure that it would be his loss, he'd gone forward and attacked with everything. So then, for him, it made little sense to hesitate after all that had happened. There was no reason for him to stay his feet or to stagnate in any way. He would move forward into the future that he carved with his own blade.

The former demigod gave his friend a clap on the shoulder. "Thanks. I needed that."

"Of course," Scáthach replied with a shrug. "You can't be bogged down by something like self-remorse or loathing. That isn't who I fought all those years ago. That isn't who I trained and bled next to. You're so much more than that, so don't you ever forget it." She smirked at him. "If you do, I'll do my best to remind you of who you really are."

Percy chuckled with a shake of his head. "I'll leave it to you then."

Without any further hesitation the son of Poseidon began to move up the hill. It was nearing six in the evening, meaning that if camp regulations hadn't changed since he'd last attended, dinner would be nearing full swing soon. That being said, he and his companion wouldn't be able to just stride right into camp.

For one, it was unclear of whether or not the magical barrier surrounding camp would let him pass. While technically he was still his father's son, Percy wasn't sure whether or not the barrier would recognize that. Ahriman had stripped him of his partial divinity years ago. Truly a great loss. Scáthach herself was no demigod, meaning that she herself wouldn't be able to enter the camp. To add, there were regularly scheduled patrols wandering the edge of the internal barrier. The two of them would undoubtedly be spotted even if they _were_ able to enter the barrier themselves.

Percy soon found the small foot trail that would lead them directly to the main entrance. As he walked, his thoughts drifted to the others that he had come to grow fond of. Mordred and Muramasa had been sent to Mexico, while Lü Bu and Genghis Khan had gone to Cambodia. If those four encountered the same kind of reception that he and Scáthach had, Percy couldn't help but worry for their well-being. Each was a fearsome warrior in their own right, yet a combatant like Crom Cruach would be more than difficult for either pair to fight on their own.

For all intents and purposes, Percy himself was practically knocking on death's door at the end of his fight with Crom. If any other gods proved themselves to be as strong as Crom Cruach, then the war would become much more difficult than he'd originally anticipated. True enough, he never anticipated the war to be a cake-walk, even if that was a well-buried hope of his. That being said, Percy was unsure of what to expect, especially when it came to his own participation. Angra Mainyu was a tight-lipped individual, even to those that he relied on to assist him, as such he hadn't given Percy a solid idea of the future course that he intended to plot.

Scáthach bumped Percy on the shoulder to shake him out of his personal musings. The young man glanced to his left, seeing that his friend had stopped walking entirely. His eyes tore themselves away from Scáthach, finding what she was staring at without expression. Standing strong only a dozen feet away from Percy was the massive archway of white marble. Near the apex of the arch was inscribed the name of the location. Camp Half-Blood.

A few feet away from the arch was a large pine tree. Percy stared at Thalia's Pine for a few moments, having noticed the distinct lack of any kind of protection around it. He was sure that Peleus would have stayed to guard the Golden Fleece, which still sat upon the branches of the pine tree, glimmering in the evening sunlight. Before he could think on the matter further, a voice called out to him and Scáthach.

"Excuse me! Do you have any business being up here?"

Percy looked at the boy who had spoken. He was fairly young looking, perhaps no older than fourteen or fifteen years old. The boy was dressed casually in the orange camp t-shirt and black cargo shorts. His features were slightly pointed, giving him a naturally mischievous appearance, leading Percy to believe that he was a child of Hermes.

"Yes, actually. Would you mind giving us permission to enter your camp? We have some things to discuss with Chiron and the other officials of Camp Half-Blood," Percy replied politely. He stepped forward until he felt something stop him from moving further. It was almost like he was fighting against a strong wind, trying to push ahead even as it pushed back against him. Soon enough, he stopped struggling and took several steps back. "As you can see, my companion and I don't have access without your given word."

"Vampires?" The boy asked uncertainly.

Percy almost palmed his face at hearing the odd conclusion that had been reached. His mouth twitched at the corners to form a minuscule smirk. "Yes! And vee've come to zsuck your bloooood, and that uf your fameely!" He said in a cliché Transylvanian vampiric accent. He figured that he might as well have some fun before things got hectic and awkward.

Scáthach lightly swatted Percy's shoulder as she chuckled softly. The boy on the other side of the barrier shook his head and cracked a smile. "Not vampires, that's for sure. Your accent could use some work, otherwise it just sounds ridiculous."

With a shrug Percy dismissed the comment. "Hey, I tried. No, but seriously, can you just let us in?"

The boy looked at them oddly. "Well, normally I'd have to say no, but for some reason I feel like saying that wouldn't make you two leave. Let's see… how to handle this situation… can you tell me your names?"

"Care to trade for that information?" Percy asked with a shrug.

The other boy nodded. "Kevin Post, son of Hermes."

"I'm Percy Jackson, and that's Scáthach," the son of Poseidon said while pointing at himself and his friend. "I'm kind of a big deal around here, if you didn't already know," Percy said casually while yawning.

Upon hearing the name spoken Kevin balked.

Percy noted the way his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open slightly. Sighing, the young man shook his head as he waited expectantly for Kevin to snap out of his stupor. After a few seconds, the son of Hermes finally clamped his mouth shut and stumbled back with a finger pointed at the Hero of Olympus.

"You're…? But… how…?" Kevin's voice was slightly awed at seeing Percy smile. The question was to be expected of course, though, he didn't want to repeat his explanations too much.

"Would you mind either letting us in or getting somebody to come and verify what I just said. Due to the time changes and jet lag, I'm pretty tired. Getting things out of the way in one fell swoop and then going to sleep sounds amazing right now," Percy said, stifling another yawn with his hand.

Kevin nodded rapidly and turned around, his steps pounding the dirt as he ran away from the property line. Percy gave Scáthach a curious glance at seeing the witch stuff her hands in her pockets. The woman leaned against a tree with her shoulder and stared at the marble archway before them. Percy walked up to her and bumped his hip against hers, leading her to return the favor with a small smile on her face.

"Drachma for your thoughts?" The son of Poseidon asked gently.

The woman said nothing for some time before she shook her head. "I was just reminiscing of the time I almost killed you on this hill. We've come a long way since that point, but is it odd to think that so little about you has changed?"

For his part, Percy simply gave her a half-hearted shrug. His shoulders rose and fell smoothly as he let out a soft breath through his nose. "What can I say? I'm a very stubborn man when I want to be. Especially when it's in regards to something important to me. In a way, I'm awesome like that."

Scáthach lifted a delicate eyebrow at his words. "Yes, well, your ever so _humbling_ opinions of yourself aside, I must admit that your tenacity continues to surprise and uplift me. Be that as it may, however, I do hope that one day you can curb your 'fatal flaw' and become a proper functioning human being. It's very natural to be selfish in regards to your own life you know?"

"True enough." Percy conceded with a small chuckle. "Still, if I'm honest with you and myself… when I save people it's for completely selfish reasons. I guess you can praise me for being the savior… but when it comes down to it… I shouldn't be praised for the reason behind my actions."

There was a small pause in their conversation as Scáthach mulled her friend's confession over. Before she could retort however, a powerful presence made itself known to the two warriors. Percy stood a bit more rigidly as he eyed where the presence was approaching from. His left hand twitched as he itched to manifest his sword, preparing for the possibility of conflict. What he saw, though, immediately put a stop to all thoughts of violence and helped plaster a wide grin on his face.

On the crest of the hill, just underneath the archway that led into camp stood a young girl. She wore a conservative brown robe with a shawl of the same color. Her face was appropriately proportioned for her age, soft and slightly encumbered by the barest hints of chubbiness. Her eyes danced with fire though, smoldering like the embers of a campfire. Or a hearth.

"Hestia!" Percy greeted politely with a wave of his hand. The smile never left his face even as the goddess regarded him with incredulity. "It's been a long time, how's it going?"

The goddess didn't respond to Percy's inquiry, instead opting to stare at the young man instead. The three of them stood for what seemed like hours, Percy's smile slowly slipping from his face as the muscles used to hold them in place grew tired. As his face fell, Hestia's went through several stages of response, each in quick succession. Finally, she took a small step forward, her expression sorrowful as she continued to watch her nephew closely.

"Percy… what… what… did… what did he _do_ to you?" Hestia croaked. The goddess walked up to Percy, passing through the barrier in order to stand before him. She craned her neck in order to look at him in the eye, considering their height difference. When in her preferred form, Hestia only reached up to Percy's stomach, making eye contact difficult.

The son of Poseidon cocked his head to the side as he observed her. Even though the smile had slipped from his mouth, his general visage remained pleasant and gentle. "Well, it's good to see you too, Aunt Hestia. Why is it that I'm the only one giving a proper greeting?" Percy asked teasingly.

Hestia leveled her worried eyes on his own, not backing down from her previous question. The small goddess pulled Percy down to her height by grabbing his shirt. With a small yelp the young man was brought down so that Hestia could stare straight into Percy's green eyes.

Scáthach went to step in between the two; though, she was stopped by a small glare sent her way by the Goddess of the Hearth. The magenta-haired woman raised her hands in surrender and moved back to lean against the tree, acting casual as Percy sent her a plea for help. With a small shake of her head, Scáthach indicated that he was on his own.

"Percy," Hestia's voice brought the young man's eyes back to her own. Upon seeing the dim flames, the son of Poseidon almost wanted to glance away again. " _What_. _Did_. _He_. _Do_. _To_. _You_." Her harsh and demanding voice curbed some of Percy's earlier anticipation for his return.

"Eh… can you describe what… _exactly_ … you're referring to?" Percy questioned hesitantly, not wishing to awaken the ire of his favorite aunt. "There were a lot of things that happened."

Hestia kept her hands gripped tightly on Percy's shirt, crumpling the cotton material in her fists. "I'm _referring_ to that vile **blight** that's been imposed upon you. That… that… **taint** … which lurks within your soul," Hestia spat acrimoniously, pulling Percy closer to her face as she did so. Her baleful glare nearly sent a shiver down Percy's spine. The venom in her voice would be enough to kill a man ten times over.

"A-Ah… that…" Percy faltered, his eyes leaving her face and staring at the ground. "Well, unfortunately, I was given a couple of new curses. Their easier for me to use, since I'm more attuned to what they embody. I can only assume that's what you're feeling right now," Percy admitted weakly.

Hestia stared at her nephew for a few moments longer, her gaze skeptical as she looked into Percy's sea-green eyes. Suddenly, she released her grasp on him, allowing the young man to straighten himself. The goddess took a few steps back and erupted into a column of fire. Percy and Scáthach both covered their faces as the heat washed over them. While the flames weren't uncomfortably hot, they were still too warm to simply ignore and stare at.

When the heat subsided and the fire died down, Hestia reappeared in a more mature form. As it was, she seemed to have aged decades, giving the impression of a woman in her early thirties or late twenties. While the goddess still wore her long brown robe, she had forgone the shawl that normally took residence on her head. Instead, her long chestnut brown hair was let down to freely flow.

Hestia looked down at her appearance, then with a nod, she reached out and grabbed Percy in a tight hug. Immediately, the son of Poseidon wrapped his own arms around the goddess, pushing his face into the crook of her neck. The warmth she emitted reminded him of when he would often talk to her around camp after the Second Gigantomachy. He cherished those moments when he could speak with his aunt about nothing in particular. He'd never attempted to burden her with his own troubles, nor had he done so with Thalia, but they still managed to help with the nearly crippling anxiety that would occasionally grip his heart. While it was true the Percy felt closer to Thalia, it was mostly due to him allowing himself to attach himself to her. After all, Hestia was a goddess, not someone that he could easily fraternize with considering the laws in place.

With a small shudder, the son of Poseidon allowed himself to soak in the heat from Hestia's body. His grip around her tightened a bit as he felt the goddess shift in his arms. Soon, the two pulled away from one another. Percy smiled at Hestia while she returned his enthusiasm in full.

"It's good to see you again, nephew. It's been fairly lonely without you to talk to on occasion here at camp," The Goddess of the Hearth said softly. "I'm glad that you came back to us."

"Where else would I go? This place was like home to me when I was younger. I loved coming to camp after each failed school year. It helped me forget about a lot of my normal person troubles, and instead I got to deal with crazier shit that went down each year in succession," Percy responded cheekily. He smirked when Hestia lightly laughed at his statement, glad to see his aunt looking more lively.

"As derisive as usual I see. At least you've stayed the same despite what happened to you," Hestia smiled, running a hand through his windswept black hair. "You still look the same too. Who's been cutting your hair all these years?"

Percy's eyes flitted to his companion for a moment. Hestia lost her smile as her eyes followed suit, locking onto the lackadaisical form of Scáthach, still leaning against the same tree. The goddess stared at the witch of Dún Scáith with slight agitation in her expression.

For her part, Scáthach winked at Percy with a coy smirk. "Somebody had to take charge in our group to do haircuts. I decided to do so since I'd already gotten some experience a couple of thousand years back," The warrior-woman explained to Hestia with a dismissive shrug.

"Percy, why is the woman who stabbed you five years ago accompanying you?" Hestia asked, turning her attention from the other woman back to Percy.

The young man shook his head and looked toward the crest of the hill, his expression growing slightly apprehensive. "Can we talk with the others… it looks like we've got company."

Scáthach and Hestia turned their attention to where Percy had his. Both understood why Percy reacted as he had almost immediately. Standing on the hill was a large contingent of campers, each of them with their eyes locked on the twice lost Hero of Olympus.

"Hey, Hestia," Percy started, garnering the goddess' attention. "Can you hold off on telling the other Olympians that I'm back, at least for tonight. Tomorrow I was thinking we could have a nice discussion regarding certain events and whatnot."

Hestia looked at her nephew with a sad smile. "Of course. While normally I would want to immediately bring this news to at least your father, I'll refrain from doing so. But you should know mister, you have a lot of explaining to do."

The young man chuckled softly. "Of course, Aunt Hestia."

Rubbing the back of his neck Percy saw some of his old friends interspersed within the crowd. His eyes trailed idly through the mass of faces, searching for the two that had haunted him for five years. Finally, he spotted a mass of long blonde hair that trailed down to frame a familiar face that he'd fallen in love with. The sheer disbelief that constructed her expression would have been a memory to cherish had there not been signs of tears in her eyes. The hill was far from silent, with mutterings roaming through the conglomeration of bodies, no doubt questioning the validity of Percy's claim to who he was. To him, though, those people were not who he sought approval from. With a tentative wave, he gave a weak smile at the girl who had given him so much strength, yet still caused him so much pain.

Just as went to move toward her, the glint of something silver caught his attention. From the corner of his eye, the son of Poseidon noticed the bow being held, pointed at him. No. Not at him. To his left, maybe?

' _Shit!'_

A streak of silver was the only warning Scáthach received that she was being targeted. Before she could react properly, Percy's hand shot in front of her. The arrow that had been fired pierced through the middle of his palm. The momentum of the arrow carried through Percy's arm, jerking the entirety of his upper body to the side as he staggered back.

"Fucking hell," Percy griped as he grabbed the wrist of his injured appendage. He glanced to where the arrow had been fired from. His eyes softened as he saw the horrified looking Thalia, her bow dropped to the ground, staring back at him with wide eyes.

Scáthach immediately went down to kneel by Percy's side as she examined his wound. The arrow was still embedded deep into his palm, actually exiting out the back of his hand. Blood dripped from his fingers and fell to the dirt below. The green-eyed man gently pushed Scáthach away as he looked over the injury himself. Thankfully, the arrowhead was of the bodkin variety, meaning that it had less surface area, leading to less soft tissue damage. In addition, it would be far less painful to yank out than if it had been a broadhead. Without hesitation, Percy grasped the fletching of the arrow and pulled.

He dropped the bloodied weapon to the ground and flexed his hand, feeling the sting as he healed himself. It was a small wound in comparison to some of those he received earlier that week. Even though that was the case, however, the pain was still there. He grunted as the hole disappeared within seconds, the tissue knitting itself back to how it was and skin covering the pink substance.

"Are you okay?" Scáthach asked, taking his hand in her own and running her fingers over where the hole had once been. Percy frowned at her and withdrew his arm. She knew very well that the arrow had only caused a trivial wound. He'd healed far worst that she herself had delivered. Her zeal in assuring his well-being unnerved him a bit even as she huffed and looked away.

"Of course I am. You know that I am," Percy responded as he looked away from his mentor. "No reason to flip out over it. Just a flesh wound."

Scáthach sighed and nodded her head. "Sure, whatever you say. So what are we going to do about them?" the witch asked, gesturing toward the mass of people stationed on the hill, whispering to one another after the display Percy had put on.

Percy said nothing for a few moments as he let his eyes flit between Annabeth and Thalia. "Stay close to me while I explain things. I wouldn't try to antagonize anybody too much if I were you. Hopefully, we can get the story out of the way and answer questions before midnight. I guess all we can do is hope for a fairly peaceful discussion."

* * *

"So long story short," Percy said as he took a bite out of his baked potato. "It's been fucking crazy. This past week has been nothing but a major pain in my ass. Trust me when I say, I'd like to do nothing more than sleep right now. I didn't have many good nights of sleep in Scotland, considering there was a group of newly resurrected gods around."

The son of Poseidon let his vision wander throughout the room.

Soon after he had stopped the arrow from potentially hitting Scáthach, he had been brought to the Big House by Chiron, who had managed to disperse the massive crowd. Percy had only managed to catch a few glimpses of the new Camp Half-Blood, but from what he did see, it was looking better than ever before. Structures had been updated slightly, looking a bit better after having been remodeled with different materials. He'd been promised a tour of the improved camp after his explanations had been given. It was obvious that practically everybody had questions that they wanted answers to, but thankfully Chiron assumed that Percy would rather speak without interruption. As such, he had filtered the people that would hear the story directly to only the cabin counselors and a few of the older campers. They could then pass the story along to the others.

Percy found the situation to be far easier to handle than standing on a podium in the middle of the mess hall trying to speak loud enough so that everybody could hear. If that were the case, he was sure that there would be interruptions abound, especially from those not already familiar with him, or the supernatural world in general. Instead, he had a smaller, more captive audience in a much more private setting. Those that were to hear his story had been told to gather their food and move to the Big House for the more intimate details.

Chiron had practically forbid questions being thrown at Percy, even by the older campers. He'd managed to take command in a difficult situation, truly showing why he was such a respected figure. Unfortunately, due to the lack of questions, an awkward silence had descended upon the group of senior campers, cabin leaders, and Percy. In addition to the silence, there was a certain tension that lingered between the campers and Scáthach, who seemed unapologetic in the way she casually dismissed the suspicious and sometimes antagonistic glances directed her way. Percy walked directly next to his magenta-haired mentor in order to dissuade some of the hostility. Much to his chagrin, however, it didn't really work.

When they had entered the Big House and taken their seats around a circular table made of polished wood, Percy recounted his tale. He attempted to fit as much as he could without revealing―what he considered to be―the more disturbing details of his mental training. He also decided to leave out his meeting with Chaos.

Percy spoke with a more detached and clinical tone, attempting to remain impartial in his retelling. It was his hope that in doing so, he could at least draw some resentment away from Ahriman and his group. While there was no love lost between the son of Poseidon and the God of Evil, he wanted to at least show the campers that his time spent in Purgatory wasn't complete torture. It would be necessary for a certain level of trust to be built between Ahriman's group and the Greco/Roman culture; if not forever, at least then for the duration of the fight against Spenta Mainyu and his cohorts. Besides, if he managed to accomplish the task set by Chaos, Angra Mainyu would be dead before even his brother.

Percy took a sip from his water and looked at it with slight disappointment. Shrugging, the young man finished it off, moistening his lips, which had become slightly chapped due to the constant speaking. Taking his knife into his hand, he cut the remainder of his ham into smaller pieces. He'd focused on his story too much, and as such, his food grew colder than he would have liked it. Looking back up the young man saw the varying expressions of his old friends. Placing a chunk of ham into his mouth, he chewed slowly as he waited for the questions that were sure to come. Scáthach sat next to him, already having finished her own plate of food long ago. She absently sipped at her orange juice, her eyes never stopped moving from person to person, as if waiting for one of them to spring and attack.

The son of Poseidon nudged her gently with his elbow, hoping to calm her. He figured that only six or seven out of the twenty people in the room would actually even attempt to attack her. Even then, Percy was sure that she had nothing to worry about, least of all her own safety. She was a powerful fighter, more than strong and skilled enough to non-lethally incapacitate anybody who would try to harm her. Well, almost anybody. That aside, she must have already known that he himself would jump in to defend her. He'd already taken an arrow to the hand for her, after all.

Scáthach glanced at him briefly. Seeing his expectant expression, the witch leaned back in her chair slightly and smiled over the rim of her glass at him. It was then that somebody cleared their throat, bringing Percy's attention to them.

"So, what you're saying, is that this goes beyond a few groups of gods trying to topple their own cultures' regimes. We've got a crazy god bent on his own revenge quest against humanity and Angra Mainyu, who is more than likely pulling the strings from afar?" Annabeth's voice was slightly incredulous, though Percy couldn't rightfully blame her. In truth, the young man could respect that she was taking his story quite seriously. In addition, her maturity in the situation was greatly appreciated, seeing as she was the only one who had spoken. However, underneath her composed exterior, the son of Poseidon could see the way her fists were clenched on the table, as well as how her eyes occasionally fired hateful glares at Scáthach.

"That's the gist of it," Percy responded softly. "I'm sure that it sounds pretty out there, but I have to ask that you believe me. We have our own small force to fight Spenta Mainyu, but he has too many gods technically supporting him. They each have their own desires and for now, they stand divided. However, if they manage to come together though and a chain of command is truly established, things might get real ugly."

Annabeth stared at the table for a few moments, apparently lost in her own thoughts of the situation. "A gaggle of gods working together, but each group having their own separate motive behind their actions. The Celts, as you learned, want to gain respect, recognition, and reverence. Surtr wants to kill the Asgardians and mold the nine realms similar to that of Muspelheim. Apophis may simply seek revenge on Ra. The Danavas wish to usurp the powers of the Hindu pantheon. There are certainly conflicts of interests. Surtr perhaps would be the one that wishes to help Spenta Mainyu the most, while the others are simply using his hastily gathered coalition in order to bolster their own numbers before they attempt to split away and pursue their true goals. Yet, even should their group falter and fall apart, they wouldn't be stupid enough to separate before their enemies are quashed." Annabeth's mutterings made Percy pause as he contemplated her train of thought.

"If we can find a way to create rifts in their shaky entente, it would not be a stretch to imagine that they could be divided and conquered that way," Scáthach stated, speaking for the first time since she'd arrived in Camp Half-Blood.

"It's not a matter of driving them apart right now," Hestia said calmly, gaining a skeptical glance from the witch. "As it stands, they aren't working in conjunction with one another. Like a very decentralized empire, they are each like their own kingdom with vast control over their own forces. They may fly the same overarching flag, but for the most part, unless their liege calls them into battle, they push their own agendas. That could very well lead to one kingdom being taken over by another."

"And as such," Annabeth continued, gaining steam from Hestia's metaphor. "As long as we stop the empire from gaining further centralization, we can keep each kingdom separate. Keep them occupied with their own problems, then strike each without the support of the others. If we allow them too much leeway, Spenta Mainyu could call them together, forming a more orderly conglomeration. Should that happen, we could expect a long and tedious struggle."

Percy nodded his head in understanding, as did many of the campers gathered in the Big House. Chiron's face seemed grave as he stared at the faces of the people in the room. Finally, he settled on Percy and gave a resigned sigh.

"Another great conflict is upon us then. It's good you brought this information to our attention, Percy. We did not realize how far this truly extended, although we had our suspicions of the web that was being weaved by another entity," The ancient centaur said with a small smile.

"You believe me then?" Percy asked hopefully. He'd been genuinely worried about being written off as a raving madman. Hell, if he were in their position even he would have doubts about the guy who just came back after five years of being in the care of the God of Evil. The son of Poseidon wasn't naïve enough to think that they weren't slightly skeptical about certain things. That being said, he didn't care as long as they took his warning at least semi-seriously and brought it to the attention of the Olympian council.

Looking around at the faces placed near him, he saw many of them looking dour or anxious. Many heads bobbed up and down when his eyes rested on theirs, leading Percy to let loose a small sigh of relief and pushed his hands to the sky. "Praise the lord! Now, please say that we're done, 'cause I could really go for a nice warm bed and the feeling of relative safety while I sleep tonight. Do you mind if I stay here in the Big House?"

Chiron looked at Percy, then at Scáthach, before he shook his head. "I have no problems with that. Do you mind me asking why you won't stay in Cabin 3 however?"

For his part, Percy shrugged. "Well, since I asked Hestia not to inform the gods of my return until we meet them tomorrow, I would feel weird sleeping in my old cabin. I'm not sure if Dad would be able to feel me when I enter. I'd rather not tempt fate and just go to sleep without fear of being blasted into oblivion."

"Ah, yes I suppose I can't argue that," Chiron conceded with a nod. "Yes, well, you can stay here. We've added a few guest rooms after the expansions to the Big House, so you and your companion can choose from one that is empty."

The son of Poseidon felt his eye twitch at the―likely unintentional―insinuation on his old mentor's part. A quick scan of the room revealed that Annabeth was clenching her jaw tightly if the tension in her neck was anything to go by. Thalia, who had remained silent the entire discussion was fiddling with a hunting knife, her expression apathetic as she stared at the table. The other campers were looking between Scáthach, Percy, and Annabeth with slightly worried expressions.

Noting the tension in the air, Percy decided to clear the obvious misconception. "Erm, n-no, Scáthach and I aren't together in that sense. Or rather… well… it's actually… well not in an official… well shit… look we don't sleep together or anything." It was unfortunate then, that his words were less than eloquent even to his own ears as he stumbled for an explanation.

Scáthach, however, decided to ignore his previous warning and made the situation worse than it had been initially. "Well, that's not exactly true. After your fight against Crom Cruach, we managed to drift off together in a well-deserved sleep. Together might I add." Yes, that could certainly be seen as antagonizing a few people in the room, much to Percy's vexation.

Percy slammed his head down on the table. "That was a one-time thing. I was exhausted from fighting a god," he mumbled from his face-down position.

"Ah, but have you already forgotten when you were really drunk and practically jumped under the sheets of my bed with me still in it?" Scáthach retorted smugly.

"Doesn't count, I was drunk. Everybody makes mistakes when they're inebriated," Percy shot back as he raised his head. "Besides, I was insinuating a more… erm… well… a different kind of relationship."

"Yes, I understood that. I just couldn't pass up the chance to tease you about your drunken carousing. Looking back, I think you might have a problem," Scáthach admitted with a small smirk.

"I don't have a problem. I don't get drunk all the time, hardly ever honestly. I moderate myself, which is more than I can say for you and your drink of choice. Seriously, you drink orange juice whenever you have the chance. I think Floridian orange farmers have to work overtime just to satiate your thirst," Percy said with a roll of his eyes.

"You weren't complaining when I introduced you to Mimosa's a couple of years back. If I recall you knocked those back pretty fast. May I remind you that Mimosa's are in fact half champagne and half _orange juice_ ," Scáthach replied haughtily.

Percy sighed and shook his head. "Yeah, they were pretty good, but I prefer the harder stuff anyway. The burn helps me recognize that what I'm doing is not without consequence. Then again, I probably don't have to really worry about diseases that destroy my cells, considering I can just regenerate them."

"Long-term alcohol abuse can lead to serious health issues, both physical and mental," Annabeth chided with worry and slight fear lacing her tone. "Percy, your regenerative properties won't help you if you suffer a major epileptic seizure while in the middle of a fight. Or if you have a massive stroke when you least expect it. You could die before even having the chance to heal yourself."

"R-Right. I… I guess I could tone it down a bit," Percy replied without looking Annabeth in the eye. He coughed into his fist softly before turning to Chiron. "Can you show me and Scáthach the rooms that are up for grabs?"

Taking the cue, the centaur nodded his head and announced that the meeting was over. People shuffled rather awkwardly past Percy, clapping him on the back or giving him rather weak smiles. Everybody told him they were glad that he was back. Nobody apologized for their previous behavior. In a way, Percy didn't feel that they really needed to. He could see it etched into their features as he had recounted his grand tale. Even though none of them vocalized their guilt, there was still a feeling of culpability palpable in the air. Percy had no doubt that they were all deeply affected by the way they acted years prior. It was in the way they looked at him, the way they stared at the floor or glanced away when he made eye contact, the way they said nothing out of respect for him while he explained the situation, and in the way they all seemingly accepted the grave nature of his reappearance.

Hestia filed out at the end of the line of campers. She had retained her much older form throughout the meeting, as such when she hugged Percy again, it was easier for the young man to return the gesture in full. The goddess tilted her head so that her mouth was next to his ear, allowing her intimate access to speak to him so that nobody else could hear.

"It's so good to have you back. Remember, you're family to me, Percy. If you ever need to talk about something, I'll be around. Don't hesitate to come to me. You _are_ my favorite nephew after all," the goddess whispered conspiratorially. She pulled away from him and gave him a small smile, before she too left the room.

Eventually there were only five left in the room. Thalia was still fiddling with her knife, occasionally twirling it between her fingers before she caught it with expert precision. Chiron was nervously looking between everybody, his apprehension visible in his features. Scáthach was leaning forward in her chair as she traced random shapes on the polished table with her finger. Her scarlet red eyes would flicker up at times, casting measuring glances at both of the other women in the room. Annabeth had become more anxious, conveyed by the way she wrung her hands, staring at Percy, before moving her colder gaze toward Scáthach and to a lesser extent, Thalia. Percy himself was doing his best not to breathe a loud sigh of exasperation at the understandable tension.

"I was hoping," Annabeth said, finally breaking the silence that pervaded the room. "That I would be able to speak to Percy."

"Go right ahead, nobody's stopping you from conversation right?" Scáthach responded blandly, not bothering to meet Annabeth's eye as she spoke. Her head was propped up on one of her arms while she continued to run a finger over the table.

Annabeth crossed her arms. "I meant that I would like to talk with him _alone_."

"Really? Wow, I honestly would never have guessed!" Scáthach exclaimed sarcastically. She turned to Percy, her eyes giving him an expectant look. "It's your decision, but if I recall properly, you've been complaining about your exhaustion the whole day. Are you going to go to sleep or stay up and have your ear talked off for the rest of the night?"

When questioned, the son of Poseidon looked back and forth between Annabeth and Scáthach, before he turned his attention to Thalia. "Er, why are you still here Thalia?" Percy asked suddenly, hoping for a quick change in subject so that he could have time to think.

"I wanted to talk to you too. Apparently though, I wasn't the only one with that thought process," the daughter of Zeus said, finally speaking since Percy had returned to camp. Her posture, while not overtly aggressive, did hold signs of irritation. Percy saw Thalia's eyes dart down to his hand for a brief second, but they quickly jumped back to his face. Her face seemed impassive, but from the way she spoke, Percy knew that there was something on her mind.

It was true that Percy had his own reasons to speak to both Thalia and Annabeth, however, he really wouldn't have minded letting the matter rest for another day or so. After all, he'd already waited five years. A period of less than twenty-four hours certainly wouldn't kill him. Yet, as he glanced between the three women in the room, he knew that he was stuck. If he waited another day, he could potentially cause himself more grief down the line. Whatever his choice, whether he talked with Annabeth, Thalia, or went with Scáthach, would indicate some form of favoritism that he was sure would be misinterpreted.

' _Might as well bite the bullet now.'_ He thought with a grim sense of resignation.

Sighing, Percy placated Scáthach by placing his hand on her shoulder. "Go on ahead with Chiron to pick a room to sleep in. I'm gonna stick around to talk with Annabeth and Thalia, okay?"

The magenta-haired woman studied him for a moment, her eyes searching his own. Percy's eyes widened as he saw her lean in a bit closer to him. Before he could react, she moved back to her previous position and gave him a wry grin. The witch nodded at the young man, standing and making her way toward Chiron after she had done so. The two began to talk semi-amicably as the old centaur guided the woman out of the room and further into the Big House. Once their voices were lost in the hallways, Annabeth turned to Thalia, then to Percy.

Just as Annabeth opened her mouth, the lieutenant of Artemis stood up and waved at the two of them. "I can wait until tomorrow. I'd rather you be fresh and really ready to talk instead of dead on your feet. Still, it's good to see you again, Percy. I'm-we-er- I'm glad you're back. Oh, and… uh… sorry about the hand." With that said, she walked to the door and exited the house with a light blush dusting her cheeks, leaving Percy and Annabeth alone in the meeting room.

They were both silent for a few moments.

Annabeth was once again the first to break the awkward atmosphere. "Would you prefer to sit on the couch? It's probably more comfortable than these wood chairs." Her voice was reserved, and she didn't look at Percy in the eye. Her behavior was a far cry from what he'd observed only fifteen minutes prior, when she had taken charge of the conversation regarding the information Percy brought up.

With a nod, the young man stood and made a move for the suede couch that sat near the ping-pong table. Just as Percy reached the halfway point, he was stopped by a hand grabbing the back of his shirt. He turned around, only to find Annabeth standing with wet eyes. The young goddess threw her arms around Percy's body, hooking her elbows around his neck as she pulled him close to her. With only a moment of hesitation, the young man reciprocated her gesture, wrapping his own arms around her waist.

They stood, embracing one another tightly, for a full minute. Neither of them spoke, simply allowing their bodies to press together. Percy allowed himself to draw a breath in, the familiar hues of Annabeth's specific scent bringing too many memories to the front of his mind. There was no way for him to truly describe exactly what she smelled like. Perhaps it was the shampoo she used, or perhaps it was just a natural scent that she emitted, pheromones and the like. He didn't know, nor did he really care at that moment. All that mattered was that the girl he _still_ loved was holding onto him like her life depended on it. All that mattered was that _he_ still mattered to her.

Finally, the two pulled away from the hug.

"I'm so sorry," Annabeth whispered hoarsely. "I'm so… _so_ … _so_ … sorry." Her voice had risen slightly as she repeated her apology. She wiped her fingers across her eyes to rid herself of the moisture that had accumulated. "Percy. You came back. I thought I would have to go and find you… but you came back. I knew that we'd meet again. I've been planning how to apologize for the past five years… but now that you're here… standing in front of me. Gods damn, I have no _fucking_ clue what to actually say to you."

At that, Percy felt the corners of his mouth twitch upward. He allowed himself to form a lopsided smile as he listened to her small rant on the various scenarios she'd envisioned for their reunion. He let her talk for several more seconds before raising a hand and effectively silencing her.

"Annabeth, calm down a bit yeah? I didn't expect a grand 'Welcome Home' fest or anything like that. Not that I wouldn't have enjoyed it to some extent; let's face it though, that dinner was awkward enough wouldn't you say?" Percy said, his smile never slipping.

The goddess stared at him for a moment. She then started chuckling to herself. "Of course, you're right. That _was_ pretty darn awkward. I think more of them were afraid of _you_ and not your… companion."

Percy noted how the blonde stumbled over the word used to describe Scáthach. With that thought alone, he was brought back to the reason he needed to speak with Annabeth in the first place. The anxiety he'd been plagued by for so long once again reared its head, though this time, Percy didn't allow it to cover him completely. He took several calming inhalations, allowing his nerves to soothe each time. If Annabeth noticed his reaction, she didn't comment on it. Percy figured that she must have known that something was on his mind. He was just glad that she was allowing him the time to speak his mind without pushing. Yes, she had definitely matured since they'd last seen each other.

Percy took Annabeth by the hand, leading her to the couch that she had mentioned before. The blonde gave no resistance as she was corralled in the direction that Percy wanted to head. Soon, the two of them were sitting side by side, with Percy still holding onto the goddess' hand, their fingers not quite intertwined. Annabeth moved her legs up onto the couch, slightly tucking them under her body as she turned to face her lover.

"Normally, I feel like I would just want to talk about everything and nothing with you. For now, though, I actually do have something else that… that I feel needs to be discussed instead," Percy said, chewing on the inside of his lip.

Annabeth nodded her head. "Okay. What do you want to talk about then?"

"Well, it's about us. Or… well… I guess what I want to know is-"

"If there is still an us?" Annabeth interrupted softly. Just as Percy went to speak she shook her head and looked away from him. "Percy, what I did to you… I can never forgive myself for leaving you in your time of struggle. It only makes it worst then that I _knew_ you were having problems, yet still I did nothing to help. Through my own fault, you felt alone. As time passed, we saw each other less and I truly thought that you had moved passed whatever it was that haunted you… but now I know that you hadn't moved on… I was just too far away to see it gripping you tighter than ever."

Percy gripped her hand. "You think too much of yourself if you think it was only you. I guess being a goddess really did inflate your ego, huh?" He teased, poking her arm with his index finger. "You can't take the blame, you know that right? You technically did try to help me. You kept asking what was bothering me, but it was _me_ who never gave you the real reason."

The goddess shook her head vigorously. "I should have tried harder! Percy, you can't just play off the fact that you saved me from Tartarus, and that I abandoned you afterward for my own convenience! What I did was despicable. You shouldn't just reconcile so easily with somebody who would hurt you in such a way."

"Do you _want_ me to hate you then? Because as it stands that's exactly what you're arguing," Percy said with an arched eyebrow.

"Are you saying that you really don't? That you're just okay with everything and that it's all in the past?" Annabeth asked incredulously.

Percy snorted. "Of course I'm not okay with what happened to me! I'm not a fucking saint you know. Still, just because I condemn your actions doesn't mean that I condemn you or them. I don't hate any of you, nor do I hate the gods. That being said, I don't particularly have many positive thoughts regarding them. You, on the other hand, I still care for, very deeply."

Annabeth growled a little at hearing his words. "Damn it Percy! Why can't you be a normal person for once and just be angry with me? Why do you always make things sound so simple and yet so complicated at the same time?"

"I owe you too much. You're one of my best friends. You've been there for me since I found out about being a demigod. You helped me through situations that I would have died in were it not for you being there," Percy said as he brought up his hand to caress her face. The goddess allowed herself to nuzzle her cheek into his palm. "You were the reason I could leave the Styx with the Curse of Achilles. You saved me, Annabeth. I love you. I really do, even after everything that's happened."

"I love you too, Percy. Even though that's the case, I really don't deserve to be with you," The goddess whispered. She went to pull away from his touch, but found herself unable to move her head. Percy's hand had reached behind her neck, grasping her in a light but firm hold. She looked into his green eyes, her lips suddenly feeling dry at seeing his vision locked onto her. "Yet, I want to be with you again. I want us. I know it's selfish and completely unwarranted. I know that I shouldn't get another chance. With all that in mind, I still want to hear you say that you love me. I still want to be able to tell you that I feel the same way, even though I have no right."

"Some people may very well see it that way, Annabeth. I, however, don't. So shut up with your self-derogatory comments; I only have so much patience until I snap and say something that would make me look like an ass," Percy commented lightly, a smirk touching his mouth. However, as soon as it came, it had vanished from his face. "That said, I do have to tell you that I'm slightly conflicted at the moment."

The blonde cocked her head to the side ever so slightly. "How do you mean?"

The son of Poseidon looked at her straight in the eye. "During my time away, I began to develop some… er… some romantic inclinations toward others. It's complicated at the moment, but it wouldn't be fair to you or them had I not come clean and told you about it now." Percy took a breath and tore his eyes away from Annabeth. He gathered his wits and let his shoulders relax slightly. After having practiced what to say countless times alone, he'd finally been able to admit the truth. In a way he felt worst about it now that it was in the open, yet another part felt quite a bit lighter than before. He knew in the long run that he would suffer far less from anxiety now that his confession had aired.

Seeing Annabeth's devastated expression, however, caused him to falter in his musings. Going over the conversation in his mind, the young man came to the conclusion that he'd more than likely led Annabeth on, only to come out and crush what hope she had. Even though he freely admitted that he still loved her, he'd also gone and told her that he simply couldn't commit to her alone. Then again, he told Scáthach basically the same thing, though she had already known about his own toils regarding Annabeth and Thalia. At least she had gotten an advanced warning, so that she wouldn't be blindsided by his convictions. The conversation had gone much differently with Annabeth, which Percy didn't account for.

Not for the first time did he curse his own lack of tact when dealing with people. Even though he'd practiced so often, there were still too many variables when dealing with another human being. He could never take into account everything that would be said. As such, he would never be able to truly predict the way a conversation might go and how that would affect his own response in the end. Percy mentally chastised himself for his inconsiderate words. While it was true that there was almost no avoiding sounding like an ass, his intention was never to enact some form of vindictive revenge on Annabeth. He was sure that a lesser person might have enjoyed the crumbling of Annabeth's face and the way her shoulders dropped, yet he could do nothing but sigh and berate himself.

"A-A-Ah. Well… I'm-er-that's… congratulations…" Annabeth said with a weak smile that she forced upon her face. She averted her eyes as she stared at the far wall, her face falling as silence fell throughout the room. Suddenly, her eyes gained steel to them as she whipped her head back toward Percy, giving him a slight shock at seeing the confidence in her expression. "Why are you telling me this though? It would have been easier if you'd just told me that we were done, and that there was nothing between us anymore. Yet you took a more difficult approach. I know you, Percy. At least I like to think I do. The man I love isn't petty enough to tell me that he still loves me despite everything, then go and put me down so easily."

For a moment, Percy said nothing as he stared at the blonde. He was shocked that she'd managed to overcome her own pain quick enough to see that there was an ulterior reason to his admittal. No doubt her mind was racing in an attempt to uncover what those reasons were exactly. Even as he went to answer, Percy was cut off when Annabeth opened her mouth to speak.

"It's her, right?" Annabeth asked, clearly sure of her own inference without needing his affirmative. "The witch of Dún Scáith. Scáthach the god-slayer."

To his credit, Percy gave Annabeth an apologetic glance.

The blonde goddess stared at him. Her face soon gave way to form a wry and pained smile. "So that's how things roll, huh? I can't say I'm not hurt. Don't worry though, I understand how you must have felt. We were apart for five years. We never got to talk about our issues before you were taken, so our relationship was questionable at best, non-existent at worst." She sighed and averted her eyes. "How does your… complicated… relationship with her affect us? You must have told me all of this because you're having trouble with your own emotions."

"I'd like to take some time to think about it. Before that though, I suppose I should ask you about your own intentions. Would you be willing to give me that time in order to sort my feelings? I can understand if you wouldn't be. It's selfish of me to think that you'd just be okay with waiting for me to choose somebody," Percy said while shaking his head.

"Percy, you've had years to think about it already. Are you sure that you're not just scared of letting one of us down? Are you sure that you just don't want to feel guilty about hurting one of us while the other can be happy? Know that I'm not blaming you, even though I might sound confrontational. I just want you to know that if this keeps going, you'll just end up causing yourself, as well as both her and me, more pain than truly necessary" Annabeth explained softly, placing a hand on Percy's chin, lifting his head so that he could look her in the eye.

"It's not just her," Percy replied nervously.

Annabeth gave the son of Poseidon a pat on the cheek. "I thought not. You never specified your 'romantic inclinations' to being relegated to only one person. The way you spoke practically screamed that there was more than one." The blonde goddess gave Percy and exasperated sigh. "Honestly Percy, you've become such a playboy after leaving me. Toying with young maidens' hearts so easily is the sign of an unashamed adulterer. To think it all went wrong when you were once such a chivalrous man."

Percy took her teasing in stride, not letting her words affect him.

"So, who's the other lucky girl?"

Coughing lightly into his fist, Percy quickly spoke the name of his other romantic interest.

Annabeth gave her friend a playful glare. "Sorry, I didn't quite catch that. It almost sounded like you said 'Thalia' though."

"Er, well I may or may not have said her name. Sorry. I know she's one of your best friends, so that might make it worse than normal." Even though Percy wasn't the most knowledgeable when it came to certain topics, he certainly knew that forming an intimate connection with your girlfriend's best friend was probably not the best thing to do. Unless your girlfriend was explicitly fine with that, but he doubted that Annabeth would be okay with it.

"I had a feeling that was the case," Annabeth grumbled to herself softly, her eyes falling to the sofa in thought. Eventually she raised them again. "I hesitate to tell you this, but I think you have the… well… maybe not… but… argh whatever! Listen, Thalia probably feels the same for you. So at least you have that going for you."

"Wait what?" Percy asked suddenly, his attention focused solely on the blonde. "How do you figure?"

Annabeth snorted, though her expression fell a bit. "After Angra Mainyu took you she really laid into me, basically reprimanding me for hours about my behavior toward you. Don't get me wrong, I deserved every word that she said, every name she called me, and every angry glare that I received. That much I can't argue. Even though she was righteously pissed off, I could see the pain that she carried. It felt… odd… the way she acted. She took some time away from the Hunt and Artemis in general. She mostly stuck around camp for whatever reason, but she rarely ever spoke to anybody. Most of the time she would just frown at people when they approached her for any matter. I think I got the worst of it though. Either way, it kinda dawned on me then that she probably had some form of intimacy with you. I never confronted her about it, knowing it wasn't really my place. She was there for you when I wasn't. For that, I'm grateful."

Percy blinked a few times before smiling at Annabeth. "That's a very mature look on things."

"Why does that sound so patronizing coming from you?" Annabeth asked with a small laugh. Without waiting for a response the goddess abruptly stood up. She looked at Percy, who also stood up to reach her level. "It's getting late. I think we both need to think things over after everything that's happened tonight. We'll have more chances to talk in the future, so it shouldn't be a big deal, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. Thanks for tonight. I'm sure it wasn't easy to hear, hell, it wasn't easy for me to say, but it means a lot that you heard me out to the very end," Percy said, genuine gratitude seeping into his tone and expression.

"Of course," Annabeth replied with a smile. "Thank you for being honest with me."

"Anytime," the son of Poseidon smirked.

The two of them stood apart from one another, both feeling the awkward air settling around them. While one part of Percy wanted to lean forward and capture the goddess' lips, another part decided not to rush. It had been five years since they'd seen one another, and their talk had probably added a bit of tension to their relationship, whatever it may have been.

It was Annabeth who moved first. She took a step and placed a gentle kiss on Percy's lips, chaste in every sense of the word. She lingered for only a moment, hardly enough time for Percy to do anything, before she moved back. With a smile and a nod, the goddess waved at Percy as she turned and walked away.

Just as she reached the door, she turned to call back. "Oh, and if you think I would just sit around and twiddle my thumbs waiting for you to make up your mind, you're a bigger Seaweed Brain than I ever realized. Don't think for a minute that I'll just let the competition walk all over me. I love you, and now that I realized how much I _want_ you in my life, I'll fight for it like never before."

With that said, Annabeth opened the door and left.

Percy watched as she disappeared from his sight. Feeling slightly lighter than he'd been in a long while, the Anti-God left in search of his room for the night.

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 **A/N: (1) Niflheim- One of the Nine Realms in Norse Mythology. A cold world, with mist covering much of it. In some stories it is the home of Hel.**

 **(2) Alfheim- One of the Nine Realms in Norse Mythology. Home to the Light Elves, Alfheim is said to be a world of beautiful proportions.**

 **(3) Aesir-Vanir Coalition- An understanding reached between a few gods of the Vanir Gods, who were reported to be older than the Asgardians. After a war between the Asgardians and Vanir, three gods were sent to live in Asgard as a peace offering. The coalition is not a true alliance, with only the three gods, Njord, Freyr, and Freyja actually assist the Asgardians.**

 **(4) Ljosalf- Light Elves**

 **(5) Jotunheim- One of the Nine Realms in Norse Mythology. Home to the giants of Norse Myth. A wilderness, with little to no fertile soil, leaving it's inhabitants to hunt wild animals to survive.**

 **(6) Draugr- The reanimated bodies of the deceased in Norse Mythology.**

 **(7) Svartalfheim- One of the Nine Realms in Norse Mythology. Home of the Dwarves and Dark Elves. A rocky and mountainous land, the elves typically live in the shadows cast by the largest mountains, while the dwarves tend to reside within the mountains.**

 **(8) Níðhǫggr- The large dragon who ate at the roots of Yggdrasil, the World Tree in Norse Myth.**

 **Aži Dahāka- Creation of Angra Mainyu. A massive dragon with a varying amount of heads, ranging from three to one thousand in different sources. Conceived in order to help fight against Ahura Mazda.**

 **Kaliya- In Hindu Mythology, Kaliya was a great serpent, living within a river poisoned by the serpent itself. Kaliya had been frightened away from it's original home, settling in the one place that it's foe could not chase. Kaliya, however, was later subdued by Krishna, a major Hindu deity.**

 **Fafnir- Once the son of a dwarf king, Fafnir was cursed, turning him into a dragon after murdering his father due to his greed. Fafnir went on to horde and guard an obscene amount of gold until he was slain by the hero Sigurd.**


	12. The Human Experience: New York

**A/N: Welcome all to Chapter 12! Once again, short beginning Author's Note. This chapter helps outline the basis for how I view the characters, Percy especially. Flawed. No character is perfect, because no human is perfect. I'm not trying to make the story 100% believable, I just want the characters to feel slightly authentic.**

 _ **Reviews:**_

 **Kindred Scarlet- Thanks for the review and kind words! And yes, there will be a few things that help contribute to the M rating down the line. Still have to flesh out the characters a bit more though!**

 **Death Fury- Haha, I'm glad it came in handy for something! I myself took a Japanese mythology class my Freshman year of college for a humanities credit, so I hope to use a bit of that knowledge here. At least then I would feel like my time wasn't completely wasted.**

 **impatientkid- My goal with both Annabeth and Thalia was to show the feeling of becoming overwhelmed. Especially in Annabeth's case, where she had the most knowledge of the war that the Norse were fighting. There was so much on her plate, that the addition of the dragons and whatnot started to make her feel despondent. Sorry that you were lost, I do know that there was quite a bit of technical jargon and terminology. I introduced a bunch of stuff at once, which I could have broken up and added piecemeal, but then it wouldn't have fit the theme I wanted to show.**

 **Nebular Reaper- Haha, thanks for the kind words!**

 **Shigure Toshiro- Thanks for the review and kind words!**

 **Trigger-Happy Texan- I always felt that Percy wouldn't be one to run from something like that. Even though I could have taken things a ton of different ways, this felt the most natural to me, since it fit with the character pre-established by Rick and the one that I decided to expand upon. Thanks for the support!**

 **MasterTrident13- Yeah, you're probably right! Either way, it wouldn't have hit Scathach though. The gesture was more symbolic, to show that in that situation, Percy would defend her against a threat. Still, I might go back and just edit that part to be more accurate to life, though the story really never was meant to be completely realistic. Anyway, thanks for your thoughts and review!**

 **BathoryMotives- Thank you, it's good to hear that I'm still doing well!**

 **justafan- Hestia is being paired with Percy yes. The final group in Thalia, Annabeth, Hestia, and Scathach. Hestia's particular ship is still being built as we speak and needs more time to develop though. After all, people don't just fall in love with one another overnight and without any form of hardships! What do you think this is, a fanfiction or something? Anyway, thanks for the review!**

 **malosi06- Thanks for the review and I'm glad you're enjoying yourself!**

 **Voidful- Thanks for the review! For your question, I feel that answering that would be spoiling the story for you. I wouldn't want to do that, but if you would really like to know I could send you a PM regarding the topic. The story definitely has a focus on how Percy handles what gets thrown at him, and Angra Mainyu is a major character that has to be handled.**

 **Raceman1234- Thanks for the support! I always pictured Annabeth doing something like that due to her own pride.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not make any money off this work of fanfiction. All rights for the characters in Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus go to Rick Riordan and all who were involved in the creation of the novels.**

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12\. The Human Experience: New York

* * *

 _Tartarus… Six Years Prior…_

How long had he been walking?

He didn't know.

How long had he been carrying Annabeth on his back?

He didn't know.

Her body was pressed upon his upper back and neck area, much of the weight being distributed there. Thus, there was an uncomfortable pressure as his head was tilted forward due to the fireman's carry position. Each step seemed to push her body even further down on his own, as if her weight was multiplying with his every footfall. The chips at his feet parted where he stepped. The crunches sounded loud in his ears, even as he could hear his own heartbeat.

The Phlegethon lazily flowed several feet away from him, keeping him constant company. The river cast an orange tint to the surrounding area, occasional bubbles of fire would pop in the river and release steam into the air. Percy was glad that he'd decided to stick close to the river. If he'd made the decision to abandon the canyon he and Annabeth had descended into there was little doubt he would have found himself near death once again. He hadn't known then that he needed to occasionally ingest some of the river "water", which made his own actions all the sweeter when he eventually found the welts resurfacing.

Annabeth had also needed to take more sips from the Phlegethon, something which Percy had to facilitate considering she wasn't conscious. While he had no problems helping his girlfriend drink the fire water―considering it kept her alive―he truly would have preferred her awakening sooner rather than later. Eventually, though, the symptoms of Tartarus' effects on their bodies had begun to recede. He'd been thankful that he no longer had to endure the painful liquid, especially since it would do him no good to be caught off guard while he was kneeling by the Phlegethon.

Already he'd run into a few monsters while traversing the bottom of the canyon, with Annabeth on his back when he did so. After basically bumping into a group of empousai and telekhines, the son of Poseidon had basically dropped Annabeth in his surprise and haste in order to pull out his sword. He'd been so enraptured in his own thoughts that he never noticed the voices until it was too late. The scuffle had been brief but dangerous.

While he hated to admit it, the curse of power that had been gifted to him was to thank for that. Ever since receiving Angra Mainyu's aid, Percy had kept the curse activated. The unfortunate fact wasn't because he needed it. No, rather, it was because when he'd first activated it, the God of Evil hadn't yet mentioned that the deal only covered two uses of the curse. Upon the second activation, Percy's life would be free game for the Zoroastrian deity.

Normally Percy wouldn't have agreed to basically selling off his soul to what could be amounted to the devil. But in the situation that he found himself, there were scant other options. In fact, Percy was sure that he made the proper decision. As long as he never stopped the curse then― _technically_ ―there wouldn't be a need to activate it a second time. He'd always be stuck on the first usage.

Of course, Percy had argued that two usages were far too conservative, but the god had retorted that Percy had no right to bargain with him. He could take it or leave it, with a fun "no refund" policy slapped on at the end.

Of course, Percy had been cross with the God of Evil for neglecting to mention the two-use limit before he'd actually activated the curse. Alas, Angra Mainyu had cared little for his protests, refusing the demand for a "do-over", something that Percy had argued for vehemently.

The god had been callous when saying that it was no fault of his own that Percy was too stupid to have waited to hear the full scope of the contract. In the back of his mind, something whispered to Percy that Angra Mainyu wasn't even slightly surprised at how events unfolded.

Whatever the case may have been, Percy ruefully acknowledged that the only reason he hadn't been torn to shreds by the monster group was because of his newly acquired power.

He was faster, stronger, and far more durable than before. He'd attempted to use the Phlegethon in the fight, hoping that his domain over water would include that of the more… fiery… disposition. It had come as a disappointment then when he couldn't even cause the river to slightly shift his way. As it was, the fight shaped up to be a dangerous one. The group of monsters numbered well above forty. As if that weren't enough, he still had to care for Annabeth's body.

It felt like he was in an escort mission within a video game, one where the damned escort was practically good for nothing and simply cowered in a corner while the protagonist was left to challenge all obstacles.

Even then though, the fight had lasted no more than five minutes.

Those five minutes had been enough time to kill dozens of monsters, with him receiving a few scratches of his own in the process. Percy had never felt more like a badass than he did in that single timeframe. Every reaction―every move―felt like he was traveling at speeds faster than he should have been allowed. His body felt like water, weaving between claws and teeth alike with relative complacency. Unfortunately, his own relaxed state had led him to suffer a couple of minor injuries. While they were certainly nothing that would impede him, let alone threaten his life, it was still disconcerting how easily he'd managed to forsake his own safety in order to slay the monsters.

That fight had happened who knows how long ago. To Percy, it felt like it had been days. In reality, it could have been far less or far more time. It was near impossible to tell exactly what time it was in Tartarus, though Percy had stopped in several instances to rest and let himself nod off into fitful and light naps. Of course, each time he woke, he had no idea how long had passed since he closed his eyes. To him, what felt like minutes could have in fact turned out to be several hours.

So, at best, his situation was dangerous, if not downright hopeless. Sure he had told the others to meet him at the Doors of Death, but with each passing step, his confidence waned. It was a small thing, the chipping at his own motivation.

While physically he was still strong and ready, if only a bit sore from what he assumed was the curse's payment, he was slowly becoming more despondent that he hadn't already missed the deadline to reach the Doors.

The son of Poseidon let his feet fall still as he stared ahead of him.

Standing further down the canyon was a hunched figure, body pointed fully toward the Phlegethon. Percy stared at the stranger for several long moments.

When straining his eyes, the teen was able to make out a few features. The figure was tall, far taller than a normal person had any right being. Even with a noticeable slouch, the man―which Percy could only infer was the gender―seemed to stand at nearly six feet.

For his part, the young man could only wonder just how tall the stranger would be should he straighten his back. Of course, most abnormally large and tall beings were not human, which often led Percy into violent situations. With that thought in mind, he decided to set Annabeth down so that any confrontation would not endanger her.

Percy gently lowered his girlfriend's body down off of his shoulders, cradling her head as he slowly placed her on the ground. Ensuring that none of the sharp chips cut into her, Percy took a few tentative steps away. Turning away from her prone body, he then carefully made his way toward the hunched humanoid.

It was practically impossible to use stealth, due to the constant crunching of the ground. Thus, Percy simply had Riptide out in his hand, already uncapped and in blade form. He was ready to swing and kill any monster that could appear, though he couldn't help but cast a few nervous glances back at his lover's unconscious form. He was straying quite far and there was no guarantee that no hidden dangers lurked about. With no support around, an unconscious demigod was practically fast food for a roaming monster in Tartarus.

As he approached, Percy noted that the figure never turned to look at him. A long, fine black robe covered his entire form, shadowing his face under a hood. Percy kept the grip on Anaklusmos prepared for a swift strike. Percy stopped walking a few feet away from the figure, who had not acknowledged that another presence had been made apparent.

For a moment, Percy was struck not knowing what to say. Finally, he decided to speak casually. "Pretty choice vacation spot huh? I mean, we've got a riverside view and everything. This place must take months of advanced booking am I right?"

"Yes, yes, yes! Truly a wonderful resort to lounge about in! The heat coming from the river is miles better than being in a sauna, wouldn't you agree?" The figure said enthusiastically as he turned to face the demigod. "Oh, and the weather? Just marvelous! Never any rain in this part of the Pit! Let me say, nothing-nothing-nothing-nothing ruins my river lounging like a day of rain! Yes, yes, yes! Dear me oh my! I can say for certain―that I cannot lie! A pleasure to meet you, young man! Tell me, what is a strapping meat bag like you doing in a place like this? Come here often? Did it hurt when you fell from earth into the Pit? Get it? Ha!"

Percy took a slow step back from the figure. "Okay, that was a weird introduction. Are… er… are you… alright?" He asked skeptically as he cast the man an anxious glance.

The hunched man raised his hand from under his robe and pulled down his hood, revealing the fairly normal face of a human being. He seemed somewhat gaunt, with slightly sunken eyes and sharp cheekbones. His jawline was very pronounced, as was his nose, which was a bit crooked. The man's skin was of a darker shade, and he was completely bald. His eyes never stopped moving, constantly roving over everything that was within their cone of vision. To Percy, he held the likeness of an Egyptian pharaoh.

"Am I alright?" The man parroted with a confused expression. "Hm, am I 'alright'. Alright, I suppose I can say that I'm 'alright'. About as 'alright' as anybody could be in the Pit! Yes, yes, yes! Then again, who can say for certain? For me, my alright could be far different from your alright. What a philosophical quandary we've found ourselves in eh? You more than likely don't think that I'm alright, but I think that I'm pretty alright―considering the circumstances. How about you? Are you alright? You seem nervous. Are you nervous? Need help feeling not nervous?"

Percy took another slow step back. "Uh, no, no I think I'll be okay." The son of Poseidon was now nearly certain that the man in front of him was insane. Still, he seemed to have some knowledge of Tartarus, which could prove to be invaluable if Percy could weasel the information out of him.

"You seem like you know some things about this place-"

"Not just some! I know much, so much, maybe even too much," The man interrupted gleefully. "I walk everywhere, go where few have gone before! Walking, walking, walking, and even more walking! I guess you could say that it's a hobby of mine. I've been here, there, and even there!" The man said vaguely as he nodded resolutely to himself. "You won't find anybody who's been to more places than me! Nope! No, no, no! So you are pretty lucky I guess since you ran into the smartest man down here in Tartaria! No, not Tartaria, Tartar Sauce! Erm, Tartarus! Yes, that's it. Yes, yes, yes!"

For his part, the demigod son of Poseidon gave the man a hesitant nod. "Cool, cool. Do you by any chance know where the Doors of Death are? I have an appointment with a few of my friends that I really do need to keep."

The man vigorously nodded his head up and down to where Percy worried there would be lasting brain damage. "I do! Yessir! Affirmative! This is Ground Control to Major Tom! ¡Sí señor! Are you looking for the Doors then? Truly? Are your friends really that important that you'd go all the way to the center of Tartarus, just to keep some appointment? What is it? Dentist? Psychiatrist? Gynecologist? Don't worry, I don't judge, you can tell me, we'll keep it a secret!"

"No, it's not really that kind of appointment," Percy reassured with a strained smile. "Say, I never caught your name by the way."

"Name?" The man asked, suddenly appearing shocked. "Name-name-name! What's in a name? Why do we label things the way we do anyway? We give meanings to a variety of objects, including people themselves! It's so strange, I've never been a fan of names. Names? Yes, names are for those who choose to bind themselves to something. I chose a name for myself, because I am bound! Yet, others don't have that pleasure! Names have power, after all! I gave myself power? Yet I'm powerless in the face of somebody like you! No, not I. We? Yes, yes, yes! WE! No―I―in this situation, but not for others. How silly of me. It is not I, but WE! I am powerless in your presence, yet WE gave ourselves a name, and HE gave himself one too!" Soon, the lanky man broke off into soft mutterings too low to discern.

Percy furrowed his brow as he tried to piece together what he was told. "You… know about me?"

The man's head shot toward Percy, his lips curling into a wide grin. "Of course! Yes, oh, most absolutely. How could I not! How―truly how―could anybody not! Simply unacceptable if somebody doesn't know about you, the Wave-Maker. Yes, creating waves―so fitting for one of your origins! Literal, yet also quite figurative. Son of the Sea 'God'. Creating waves with the power granted to him due to his lineage! Creating waves due to his personality and strength of character! Yes, literal and figurative indeed! Such a fitting title! Oh me, oh my, do you even try? Do you even try to create such mayhem? Does it simply come to you as second nature instead? Percy Jackson, do you cause waves in order to create chaos? Does that chaos ever crawl into your lap, simply begging you to slowly embrace it. Do you understand the crawling chaos that slowly encroaches upon you? Of course not! You don't know―not yet―perhaps not ever? Unacceptable! You will be made to understand!"

"Hold on," the son of Poseidon held up his free hand in order to halt the stranger's ramblings. "How do you know about me? Who are you?" The man was certainly unnerving, giving the teen an uneasy feeling as his darting eyes occasionally met Percy's own.

"How? How he asks? Need you even though? We know all! We are… no… no… We know much! Not all… not all… but much! Yes, yes, yes! There is another who truly knows all! But that is not WE! No, WE know so… very… much! Of course, WE have taken an interest in you! How could we not? We? Well, yes and no. HE and I are different―but WE are the same―for now," the man lowered his head slightly and fidgeted with his hands. "WE are WE. I am ME, but HE is HE. WE are N! Is the name to your pleasing, Percy Jackson?"

"En? As is the letter or like…?"

The man nodded with a crooked smile. "Yes, yes, yes! N! Like the letter of the alphabet. We are N. He is greater though, greater than We. Greater than poor, little, N. HE is far more. HE granted himself a name, I was given a name, WE collaborated on this name. N is not HIM, he is far… _far_ … _**more**_."

Percy frowned at the newly proclaimed N. "Who? You keep saying 'He'. Who are you talking about?"

At that, N cowered and shrunk away from the young man. "No! NO! You can't ask who he is… he is… WE are one thousand. We are legion… we are nameless… faceless… timeless… we… walk the stars? Drift… drifting between planes… we stalk… stalking the stars… He is… deathless…"

The son of Poseidon shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Seriously, is there an asylum around here or what?"

N finally stopped shivering and met Percy's eye dead on. "I've… said too much… job… job, job, job! My job is done! Yes, yes, yes! Forever done, now to claim my reward! No… I haven't finished yet! Not yet―close though―so close to being done… so close to rest… follow the river… reach the center of Tartarus! Yes… the center of pain! Center… a middle… hmmm… ah well. Find the Doors, keep your… gynecological appointment… best be healthy! Yes! Done! Now… We can rest!"

Percy stared at N for a few moments, then nodded his head. "Thanks, N. It was… well… I can't say it was nice talking to you. I guess it sure was a hell of an experience."

N smiled brightly at the young man, but Percy noticed the man's eyes started to bleed away into a deep red color. Soon, N's eyes were completely red, causing Percy to take an instinctive step back when they locked on his frame.

Before Percy could comment, N cut him off with a deep baritone voice that was far different from his normal alto. "Godspeed, Perseus."

With that, the man fell backward into the river of fire.

Percy's eyes shot wide as he tried to grab N's body from out of the Phlegethon. The man was thrashing around as his clothes caught fire, his screams filled Percy's ears. The dying man's voice had gone back to normal, and his shrill cries of pain and terror pierced Percy's brain. Just as Percy was about to grab onto his arm, a sudden shift in the current pulled N away from the demigod's outstretched hand.

Staring in horror, Percy flinched at the horrendous wails of agony that arose from the man's throat while he burned alive in the river. Just when Percy was about to cover his ears, a large wave arose from the river and crashed over the dying man's form, submerging him from view, finally cutting off the noise.

Slowly, Percy moved from his spot. He replayed the scenario in his mind as he tried to understand what had happened. N had been talking fairly normally, up until his eyes changed to red. It was then that Percy felt like something had changed completely with N's countenance.

When the demigod reached the unconscious form of his girlfriend, he bent down and hauled her onto his shoulder. The talk with N had been tiring, for more than one reason. Then again, even for all of his eccentricities, the lanky man didn't deserve the fate that had befallen him. Burning alive in a river of fire definitely wasn't a pleasant way to go. Especially given how terribly he had screamed the whole time.

Percy looked forward, glad that he had a better idea of where to go. Even though N's death had been abrupt and quite saddening, at least he'd given Percy a clue on where to find the Doors. That is if his word could truly be taken at face value. N had never seemed to speak his thoughts wholly. Most of his sentences had been fragmented, broken, and incomplete. With that in mind, Percy found himself worried that N might have misled him, even if only unintentionally.

With a sigh, the son of Poseidon figured that there was little to lose if he followed the Phlegethon a bit farther along. If things got too dangerous, it wouldn't be too much trouble to find another route. Hopefully.

With a glance at the spot where N had disappeared beneath the Phlegethon's surface, Percy continued his trek onward.

Even as he took step after step, the screams never left his mind, only growing louder as he walked away.

* * *

 _Camp Half-Blood…_

"I thought I'd find you here."

A voice reached Percy's ears, causing him to open his eyes. The wind swept over his face, blowing past the beach and moving further inland. A few particles of sand landed in his eyes, but he blinked them away quick enough. The sun was rising over the horizon from where Percy was looking. Bright yellow rays bounced off of the water that lapped at the beach and which extended into the Long Island Sound.

Squinting at the piercing light, Percy moved his head to the side and allowed his hand to come up and shield his eyes. From his position laying on a small dune of sand, the son of Poseidon could see a pair of legs placed a scant few feet from his body. A pair of black jeans helped Percy draw a conclusion as to who it was who had spoken. Not that he needed any assistance recognizing the voice that had been his support for so long.

Instead of responding immediately, the young man allowed his eyes to trail up Thalia's body. He noticed that she was barefoot, but not many people lounged on the beach with shoes and socks on. From there, he went up her legs, seeing a pair of jeans that had been folded up to her lower calves. There were a few tears in the fabric near her lower thighs, giving off a grunge vibe, something that had apparently followed Thalia through the years. A forest green Foo Fighters graphic t-shirt was slightly obscured by a black leather jacket that looked well worn. He moved up and finally rested his eyes on his cousin's face, which was settled impassively.

Thalia held her hands in her pockets as she raised a questioning eyebrow at Percy. The circlet that signified her position as the lieutenant of Artemis glimmered slightly in the morning sun, pushing her unruly black hair away from her eyes a bit. Percy noted that she, like many of the other campers, hadn't changed much in the five years of his absence. Then again, he hadn't changed much either, at least not in terms of appearance.

Even though Scáthach had observed that his character had stayed the same for the most part, Percy could argue her point. After all, who was she to pass judgment on his person? While he never really pegged himself as a hard to read person, his personal motivations and ideals were surely never on display. He'd almost divulged them to Scáthach the past day, but the fact that so many people still viewed him as a hero told him all he needed to know.

While he couldn't really speak for the personalities of the other campers, at least Annabeth and Thalia had remained somewhat the same. Of course, he hadn't spoken to either for very long, so there was a possibility that he could have missed something. Annabeth, at least, he could say seemed genuine when he spoke to her last night.

Thalia had been practically impossible to read though. Of course, her actions had given him a glimpse of her character. She'd fired upon Scáthach basically as soon as she saw her; an action which pointed at impatience and perhaps a tendency to act brashly. Basically, it reminded Percy of Thalia's demeanor prior to him leaving. In a way, there was a feeling of relaxed familiarity that came from camp and those inhabiting it.

That said, though, there was also plenty that had changed. The Big House had been expanded to become… well… even bigger than before. With at least a dozen new rooms, a new floor, and a basement added, the building was greater than it had ever been. The exterior had stayed much the same however, with the paint having been kept blue, although it seemed a bit glossier than before.

The Pegasus stables had been fully upgraded to fit even more of the winged equestrians in them. Percy hadn't visited them yet, but he was sure Blackjack would have been treated well.

In fact, it hadn't just been the stables that were improved. Most of the original buildings were looking better than ever, with new facades and more expansions to fit with the growing population of the camp. Percy was almost certain that Annabeth took some inspiration from New Rome, given the amount of marble that was being used. That being said, Camp Half-Blood still lacked the centralization that Camp Jupiter had, but there was little that could be done for the existing buildings.

Something that Percy found interesting was the addition of the "School Strip" as it was referred to.

Two new buildings occupied what had once been the western side of the forest. How they managed to move the trees, and subsequently the nymphs, was unknown to Percy. He doubted that any nature spirits were harmed in the making of the "School Strip" though, seeing as how the satyrs would have been up in arms.

The new buildings were used for educational purposes, as the name implied. Percy supposed that Annabeth had taken the idea from New Rome. A place for Greek demigods to get a proper education if they were there year-round. One of the buildings was used for everything below higher education. K-12 in layman's terms. The other building was dedicated solely for those half-bloods who were at the university level, meaning that they wouldn't have to leave the relative safety of camp for a better education.

As far as Percy understood it from a short discussion with Hestia earlier that morning, neither of the buildings were fully operational in terms of proper staffing. There were still plans for finding demigod or clear-sighted mortal educators to teach classes. It was quite the challenge though, especially when it came to those qualified enough to teach college-level courses. As it stood, most demigods pursuing a college degree were taking online classes. Then again, until real, certified individuals could be found to teach, there was little that could be done on their part.

Percy himself recalled when he and Annabeth had planned to go to New Rome in order to study together. It would have been a safe place where they could at least stay for a while and receive a decent education. He wasn't sure what he would have done for sure, though he might have gone into a branch of oceanography. In the end, however, things had clearly played out a bit differently than expected. Annabeth had been too consumed in her practical architectural job, while Percy himself was struggling with his own problems. It mattered little though, considering that it was in the past and Percy was not bitter about it.

The son of Poseidon brought his attention back to his cousin, realizing that he'd been spacing out on her. The girl in question was sporting a soft pink hue to her cheeks and ears, causing Percy to imperceptibly raise an eyebrow.

' _Is she… flustered? What the hell?'_

It was then that Percy figured his constant eye contact was making her uncomfortable. He smiled in order to remedy the situation and pushed himself off the small dune of sand. The young man stood shakily as the sand shifted beneath his feet, though he stabilized himself quickly.

"How did you figure that?" Percy asked, referring to her earlier question. "I mean, it's not like this was one of my favorite spots to visit back in the day, nope, definitely not."

Thalia rolled her eyes and nudged her shoulder against his own. "You mean, apart from the bottom of the lake?" Thalia asked slyly, causing her cousin to cough into his hand.

"Yeah, apart from that," Percy said with a soft chuckle. "It's good to see you again, Thalia. I would be lying if I said I didn't miss you, or think of you often."

"Oh? Sounds scandalous," the daughter of Zeus replied with a smile. "Jokes aside though, I've missed you too Percy. It's been too long. I really didn't expect to see you here at camp, returning with…"

With a small nod, Percy acknowledged that he understood her sentiments. "I would have told you had I known myself. As you heard yesterday this was a spur of the moment kind of thing. Since me and Scáthach never got a response from Ahriman, this impromptu meet and greet popped into our minds."

' _What complete and utter bullshit.'_ Percy deadpanned to himself.

Thalia herself seemed skeptical about Percy's story, but kept any misgivings to herself. "Right. How have the last five years treated you? I mean, I know you told all of us the general gist of things, but I want to hear it from you right now, with nobody else around. I… I want you to know that you can talk to me, just like you used to Percy. I want that. So for me, please, be honest and tell me everything."

The curse-bearer looked at his cousin with a tight throat. Even after five years, it felt as though so little had changed between them. Perhaps his relationship with her had seen the least amount of tumult. If what Annabeth said was true, then Thalia took his abduction fairly poorly. He didn't want to bring it up. Truthfully he didn't have a _need_ to bring it up. He doubted that Annabeth would have blatantly lied to him about something regarding Thalia like that. Especially something that would be easy enough to verify by a simple question toward the daughter of Zeus.

On top of that, Percy already knew that Thalia often had strong protective feelings towards those she considered family. Those emotions more than likely stemmed from her own perceived failure to protect her younger brother when they were younger. Then, her failure to save Luke from his hatred, which would eventually lead to his death. Of course, even though she couldn't be faulted for either of those events, she refused to acknowledge her own innocence. Even when Jason had been reintroduced into her life, the damage she wrought upon her own psyche was too extensive, too ingrained into her very being. Percy had no doubt that when Angra Mainyu and Scáthach had taken him from the hill, she had viewed it as another failure to protect her family.

It pained him to think of the grief that she'd more than likely fought on her own. He'd never wanted that to befall her, yet he could do nothing to save her from herself. Just like him, she carried her own troubles. They were two damaged people living in a damaged world. While Percy never bemoaned his own plight as being unfair, he truly believed that Thalia never deserved her own self-loathing. The claws of her fear truly sank deep, yet he'd always had hope that perhaps they could be lightened, if not removed entirely. While it sounded melodramatic, Percy had wanted to help Thalia during their meetings after the wars. To help save another person, for whatever that may have been worth. To him, it would have been a boon.

"What I said in front of everyone back there was basically the truth. Trust me, Thalia, I only hid what I thought was unnecessary information…" Percy replied softly, placing his hands behind his head and stretching his back.

"Unnecessary information?" Thalia repeated, as if tasting the way the word sounded in her mouth. "What you may deem useless could be beneficial for other people. That's especially true in this situation, when you have people who care about you, and would like to make sure there was nothing lurking beneath a well-crafted surface. Let's face it Percy, you love to hide your emotions. You have trouble opening up to people. You're utter shit at facing your personal issues, instead choosing to try and focus on other people's problems to distract yourself from the hard truth."

The son of Poseidon arched his eyebrow at the confrontational tone that his cousin took on. "Hard truth?"

"You're the one that needs to be saved," Thalia responded with conviction. Her posture was relaxed, yet her voice was harder than steel. Her eyes were locked onto Percy's own, none of her previous awkwardness entering into her solid gaze. "Even if it takes the rest of my damned life, I'll try my best to save you, Percy."

With a casual tilt of his head, the young man blinked a few times at Thalia. His confusion was offset by the warmth that flooded his chest and face at hearing the statement. Percy felt his mouth twist a bit, though even he couldn't tell whether it was a pleasant expression or one of distaste. More than likely it turned out to be an odd grimace, though he couldn't be sure. He lowered his arms and placed his hands into his pockets, mirroring Thalia's form. Her words ran through his mind as he tried to understand what she meant. Truth be told, he'd never considered himself in need to saving, at least, not in the sense that she was referring to.

His mind had always been sound, always focused on ensuring the safety of those around him. He never realized that he'd wavered, that he was sending a cry for help, one that somebody had managed to catch. His brain scanned through his actions, dialogues, subtle gestures that could possibly have been interpreted the wrong way. Truly, he was sure that Thalia was mistaken. He was sure that he was fine, if not worth the title of hero. Yet, even as he tried to convince himself of his cousin's fault, he felt his own doubts crawl into place.

' _No. I'm not wrong. I'm not the one who needs to be helped. Not when there are still so many people still in pain. So many that I call friends, family, and loved ones.'_

Thalia took Percy's silence as a gesture to continue. "Look, Percy, I care about you. You're my cousin, closer to a brother than that though. You're somebody I can trust completely, against all my reservations. I trust you to have my back in battle, I trust you to keep my secrets, and I trust you enough to place my utmost faith in your abilities. I'm not one to run from confrontation, I trust you enough to know that." The daughter of Zeus took a breath and shook her head solemnly. "But you can't seem to trust anybody else. You trust them with your life, sure, especially Annabeth. That isn't enough though… not with you. For any other person that would be the greatest form of trust. To entrust another human being with your life. But not for you, because you're a seriously fucked up person, Percy.

We both know that your fatal flaw affects you in a grand way. Your disregard for your life in so many situations exemplifies that. You jumped in front of Kampê's sword for me. You used that damned curse in order to do it, knowing full well what it would mean. You made a deal with Angra Mainyu in order to escape Tartarus, with Annabeth on your back. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that there aren't other people who aren't examples of sacrifice, but _you_ … _you_ don't hesitate. You value our lives above your own. You jump in front of the bullet without considering that your life is practically forfeit because of that. It's… Percy, it's what makes you who you are… but… for those of us who truly care about you… it hurts to see."

Percy listened to her intently, contemplating her words as she spoke. His eyes were cast out at the water, watching as the sun drifted further up into the sky. When Thalia had finally stopped, the son of Poseidon looked at his cousin. "It's not that I don't consider my life when jumping to the rescue. I do contemplate things, but more often than not, I purposefully disregard the risk for those I care about. You deserve to live, hopefully happily. All of you do."

Thalia took her hands out of her pockets and grabbed Percy's shirt. "Are you telling me that _you_ don't? Pick your words carefully, Percy."

The young man's eyes were slightly wider than normal, but he regained his composure and gently took hold of his cousin's hands. Slowly, he pried himself away from the hunter, noting that her grip offered no resistance as removed himself. Percy looked down at their hands, which were still together, being that he had never let go. A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. He moved his eyes until they locked on Thalia's, which stared defiantly back. "You really do care, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Thalia responded harshly, contradicting her gentle words with the tone of her voice.

Percy couldn't help let loose a chuckle at hearing the mixed signals. He wasn't quite sure whether she was angry, insulted, or disappointed by his response. He figured it was probably a mix of the three, considering Thalia's character. In the end, however, the effect of her own words was made apparent to the son of Poseidon. Once more, he felt the contentedness run through his body, igniting his veins and sending a pleasant shiver down his spine.

"Then let me give you an honest answer. To me, your lives are invaluable. My own is nowhere near as priceless to me. Each of you, those that I hold dear that is, could never be replaced. There is something about you all that makes me _want_ to protect you… to rush headlong into danger… to place my life on the line for yours. I don't know what it is, but either way, does it matter? You're too precious for me to just let slip through my fingers. Even if I can't have you, even if I die, I'd die knowing that you still lived. Admittedly, there aren't a great many people who inspire that form of loyalty in me anymore. Be that as it may, I count you among those people, I have for quite some time."

Thalia allowed her eyes to drop toward their joined hands. She said nothing for some time, her face impassive, though there were hints of both displeasure and confusion that marred her visage. Percy allowed her the time to think on what he'd explained, already understanding that his answer was not what she wanted to hear. He was braced for a multitude of violent and hostile reactions, knowing that Thalia's emotions were closely tied to her demigod abilities. In fact, most demigod powers were partially influenced by emotion.

Finally, Thalia pulled her hands away from Percy and crossed her arms over her chest. "Your words would have been sweet if I didn't know that they applied to more than just me. If that was your way of buttering me up, then you've got your work cut out for you."

Percy laughed at her haughty tone and mocking expression. "Yes, _oh glorious one_. Please forgive me and my poor attempts at veiled compliments. I should have known my honeyed words would _never_ attract you to them, no matter how sweet."

Thalia regarded him for a moment before cracking a smile. "You're forgiven this time, peon. Be warned though, future attempts like that will not be greeted so magnanimously by one of my stature."

Percy swept into a small bow, his shoulders shaking slightly as he stifled his chuckles. "Of course. I'll be sure to remember that."

Thalia moved forward and swung one arm over Percy's shoulder. Being that her cousin stood nearly four inches taller than her, she had to reach a bit for support. "I'm glad you came home, Percy."

"Yeah," the young man replied softly. "Me too."

The two stood side by side, Percy having moved his arm around Thalia's shoulder as well. For a minute, neither spoke. Instead, they took in the view that was before them. The sun had risen further into the sky during their discussion, leading Percy to believe it was nearly eight in the morning.

He himself had gotten out of bed at a quarter before seven. Scáthach had more than likely still been asleep, given that her door had been closed. After a quick shower, Percy had been out of the Big House and wandering the edges of camp. It was near the School Strip that he'd found Hestia. The two had talked for a few minutes, during which the goddess explained a few things about the camp's many changes. They had also arranged for Percy to meet with the Olympian council at around noon, depending on how fast Hestia could gather the fourteen, sans herself.

The goddess had left him with a parting hug once more, something that he graciously accepted and returned. When it had ended, he found himself wanting another source of warmth, therefore he wandered into the beach in order to watch the sunrise. It wasn't the perfect view, but the rays still hit him enough to warm his skin.

With all said and done, he'd forgotten about breakfast, something that was brought to his attention by the growl of his stomach.

"I knew I was missing something," Percy muttered to himself.

"What would that be?" Thalia queried.

"I never did eat breakfast this morning. The noise my stomach just made was straight up something out of a horror movie."

Thalia grinned and pulled her arm off of Percy's shoulder. "If I went to go grab us a bite, you wanna eat here on the beach? I still feel that we have more catching up to do, although it's fine if you have other plans."

"Nah, what you said sounds good to me. It's still weird for me, I feel like eyes are always on me. Plus, I wouldn't know where to sit," Percy shrugged.

"I'm sure you'd be allowed to sit at the head table. Chiron would no doubt be okay with that," Thalia replied.

Percy thought about it for a moment, before disregarding the suggestion. "It's fine, I'd like to sit and eat here with you. Speaking of the head table though, where's Mr. D? I didn't see him yesterday, which I guess I'm pretty grateful for, otherwise, I might've had to meet with the gods yesterday."

Thalia shook her head. "I'm not sure. There was a council meeting just prior to your arrival, so I'm thinking that he was held up on Olympus. What the gods are doing is beyond me, considering that Lady Artemis herself brought the Hunt here to remain for a little while. After teleporting us, she left back for Olympus."

"I see. Hopefully, this doesn't turn into another situation like with Gaea. We can't have the gods sitting on their asses this time while another lunatic plots humanity's downfall," Percy lamented while pinching the bridge of his nose. "Seriously, what's with all of these villain archetypes wanting the destruction of humanity or to take over the world? Why can't they work toward a productive goal, like saving the whales or something?"

"If that were the case they could hardly be called villains then," Thalia said dryly, rolling her eyes. "I can see where you're coming from though. At this point, it just feels old. To answer your first statement though, I doubt that the gods will be so reactionary this time. Sure, they're not exactly pro-active in this situation, but they probably won't let things get out of hand. At least, I hope not."

"Right, because the gods are _surely_ known for their _quick_ and _decisive_ actions in regards to threatening forces that could very well topple their regime. How could I have forgotten? Silly me," the son of Poseidon drawled blandly.

The lieutenant of Artemis sighed at Percy's tone and gave a helpless shrug. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that they get a pass for what happened in the previous conflicts; what I meant was that they've seemed to have learned a few things. Once again, I can't say that for sure, but I hope that I'm right. If not, we'll just have to make them see reason. With you leading the campers, I'm sure that the voices will be heard."

Percy gave his cousin an odd look. "Who said anything about leading the campers? I'm not a leader. I have no desire to lead. I've learned that it's way easier to live with yourself when you just follow the orders, instead of giving them. I don't like him, but Angra Mainyu is someone that I'm sure can lead. He won't get bogged down in the morality of choices, acting swiftly and with conviction. I hate him for it, but I can respect him in that sense too."

"It's weird to hear you defending him," Thalia said hesitantly with an arched eyebrow. "Still though, if you have a bit of respect for him, he can't be all bad. That being said, you can't just count yourself out as possible leadership material either. Look, whether you know it or not, you inspire people. When the going gets tough, there are many who look to somebody they can rely on in order to feel secure. For a lot of us Greeks, that person is you."

"Oh joy."

"Snark all you want, the truth isn't easy to accept for you though is it? If you put some effort into it, I _know_ that you would be an amazing leader. Even if nobody else would follow you… _I_ would go with you, Percy. Just say the word and I'd stick by your side to the end. I trust in you completely, even though you may never say the same. Tell me to leave the Hunt, tell me to follow you, to help you, to stay by you through what may come… _I'll do it_."

For the third time, Percy found himself shivering at the strength of her words. Her eyes helped convey her own conviction, never leaving his own, staring at him as if he were the most important thing in that moment.

"I'm not going to ask that of you," Percy said as he looked away. "This'll sound melodramatic, and perhaps a bit corny, but where I'm going, I'm not planning on dragging anybody down with me."

Thalia grabbed Percy's arm and forced him to face her. Instead of finding her visage locked in anger as he expected, Percy only saw a soft smirk.

"Sorry Percy, you don't have a say in that. Whether you want my help or not, you'll be getting it. You're afraid of letting those around you get hurt trying to help you, yet you don't take into consideration that when you don't allow us to aid you, it only deepens the wounds that you unwittingly cause. I know you, Percy. Others may not notice it, but I do." Thalia's voice had gone from haughty to condemning faster than Percy could comprehend. "You constantly cause other people pain when you do things on your own, when you selflessly risk yourself. You're a real asshole, you know that?"

The Hero of Olympus stared at his cousin in slight shock for a few moments, before his face broke into a gentle smile. "Yeah, I know that. Thanks anyway… for reminding me though."

With a nod, the daughter of Zeus released Percy from her grasp. "I'm gonna go grab some food for us, that is if you still want to eat with me."

Percy couldn't help but scoff at her accusation. "You think that because you threw a few 'mean' words at me that I'll run away? Please, that's just demeaning. If you're gonna go then get on with it, I might just die from old age at the rate we're going."

Thalia spun on her heel, heading toward the mess hall, though not before giving the young man a wide grin. "I'll be back soon, don't get into too much trouble while I'm gone!" She called over her shoulder as she walked away.

Percy waved the hunter away with a smile. He allowed himself to fall back down onto the sand, bracing himself up by his arms as he stretched his legs before him.

The son of Poseidon's thoughts drifted to what his cousin had said earlier. While he didn't doubt that Thalia was being truthful with her vehement statement, he still couldn't understand why. He supposed that it was common enough, for one to ask why in such a situation. Through what she'd said, Percy could only gather that she believed in him to make the right choices, ones that she herself would make. That would be a fair reason to follow somebody else. If one truly believed that another person could work to benefit one's own ambitions, whatever they may be, it was more likely that one would follow another. This could be especially true when that other individual had a better position from which to make a change or accomplish a variety of things.

When taking that mentality into consideration, Percy found himself wondering what Thalia believed she would gain from following him. Perhaps their goals aligned for the moment, but seeing that survival was a basic instinct, he couldn't truly award any loyalty points on that front. No matter how he looked at it, Percy simply couldn't figure out what the common ground between himself and his cousin was. Then again, he had no real insight into the machinations of her own mind. There were a few theories that he entertained, yet he could never know for certain unless he asked her directly, or she accidentally let it slip.

If it were just for survival, then she surely would have chosen her words more carefully. Once the war was over, she would have no need to follow him where he led her. The necessity to join forces in order to win would have passed. With that being the case, it would have been more prudent to allude to a more temporary alliance, where she would accept him as her leader for a while, only during the war, before she would go back to being part of the Hunt.

Yet… she had said that she would forsake her status as a hunter, in order to follow him. Not just for a fixed period either, but indefinitely.

 _I'd stick by your side to the end_.

Percy let his eyes close as he mulled her words contemplated her choice of words.

A shift in the sand next to him alerted him to another presence. Opening his eyes, the son of Poseidon glanced up, seeing that Thalia had returned with two plates in each of her hands. Percy smiled and reach up to take the one she offered to him, giving his thanks in the form of a nod.

Thalia sat next to him, carefully maneuvering herself so that she wouldn't spill her food everywhere. Once she was settled, the daughter of Zeus began to leisurely eat her meal. Percy too started on his own, picking up the waffles with his hands. Neither of the half-bloods spoke while they ate, each involved in their own thoughts. Silently, they allowed the morning light to bathe them in warmth as the cool breeze wafted across the beach. Eventually, both had finished their meals, moving their plates to the side. It was Thalia who broke the comfortable silence between them.

"So, how did your talk with Annabeth go?"

Percy glanced at his cousin from the corner of his eye. "It went well," he answered.

"Gee, informative much? Please, don't say too much at once, I might get overwhelmed with all of those descriptives," Thalia rolled her eyes, causing Percy to chuckle at her attitude.

"Now, now, there's no need to for the sarcasm," he replied placatingly. "You asked me a vague question so I gave you a vague answer. Fair's fair."

The lieutenant of Artemis gently punched Percy's arm. "Very funny. Though I guess in a way I was asking for that one."

"In a way, yes, you were," Percy laughed softly, shaking his head. "No, but really, why are you interested in knowing? You're not really one to pry, not saying that's what you're doing right now but… well… doesn't matter I guess."

"If you don't want to answer I can understand. It really isn't my place anyway."

Percy nodded his head. "That's true, but I never said that I wouldn't give you an answer. It depends on the question, perhaps on the phrasing as well."

Thalia sighed, her voice coming out equal parts agitated and amused. Percy wasn't sure how she managed to convey both emotions at once, yet he didn't dwell on it long. "Did she apologize to you?"

"Of course. She was pretty remorseful about the whole debacle, which I guess I can appreciate. The thing is, I wasn't looking for apologies. While it was cathartic, I had seen her horrified face right before I was taken. I knew then what she couldn't tell me."

"I see. That's good then. I… I should also-" Thalia was cut off before she could finish her thought.

"-Nope! I don't wanna hear it!" Percy said as he covered his ears.

Thalia growled at her cousin's perceived immaturity. "I just wanted to apologize for not seeing the signs sooner. It was only after that God of Evil came around that things were clear to me. I should have seen it. I should have done something!"

Percy took his hands away from his ears. He directed a frown at the hunter showing his displeasure at her admission. "You shouldn't apologize. I'm serious, don't. It wasn't your fault. You helped me through it, okay? I don't want to hear anything else on the subject, please."

Throwing her arms in the air, Thalia surrendered to Percy's assertions. Seeing that he'd gotten his point across, the son of Poseidon felt himself relax slightly. He wasn't angry with his favorite cousin, more that he was frustrated that she chose to take any of the blame on herself. Considering that he was the victim in past the situation, not that it mattered anymore, he felt that he was entitled to determine a person's guilt. Perhaps it was petty, yet he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Glad you could see things my way," Percy said.

He got a reply in the form of a grunt.

' _I'll never win with this one.'_

"Moving on! Why did you want to know about my talk with Annabeth in the first place? You keeping tabs on her or something?" Percy asked nonchalantly, though his intention was to pry.

Thalia seemed slightly jarred by the change in topic, though she regained her composure quickly. "It's not that… well… not completely. I guess in a way I feel kinda bad for tearing into her so much all those years ago. Don't get me wrong, I still think she deserved it, though, I just didn't want my words to be what spurred her change. I wanted to show her what she did wrong, true, but never to force her to feel a certain way. In a way, I think my words were pretty unnecessary. Still, it was cathartic to just rant at her for a little while."

The hunter shook her head suddenly. "That being said, I never wanted her to apologize to you out of a sense of duty because of my words. Now, if she apologized because she _really_ felt guilty, then I would be happy."

For his part, Percy nodded in understanding. "Well then let your fears be settled. I've always known the guilt she carried with her. At least, I was fairly certain. It was never a guarantee, though the anguish on her face when Scáthach stabbed me seemed pretty damn genuine. I mean, faking an emotional response during such an emotional time of duress would be extremely difficult."

"Look at you, using such a patronizing tone. Now I have to wonder what Angra Mainyu really did to you in Purgatory," Thalia's voice was light, allowing Percy to sense her teasing.

"Well, when you spend so much time with such a diverse group of crazies one picks up on a bunch of random shit. Most of the time, it's an overwhelming urge to run as far and as fast as one possibly can, but that isn't the only thing. I'm sure I've been influenced a bit by speech patterns and ideologies."

The daughter of Zeus gave a wry chuckle. "And yet you're still basically the same old Percy that I remember. Too loyal for his own good. Seriously, why do you even bother to do anything other than just protect your friends? Imagine how much more efficient you would be at keeping us all safe if you never ate, slept, bathed, or went to the bathroom! Percy, you could be like a machine. Think of it. Percy Jackson, the first real Terminator. T-800 series from Terminator 2, of course."

"I dunno. Given my awesome and totally badass regenerative powers I would say that you could compare me to the T-1000 instead," Percy shrugged with a smirk. "Now if only I could take a bullet point blank to the face and come back from that, we'd be set. I'd be practically invincible! This war would be over before we knew it, since I'd have absolutely no reason to actually fear the ever looming presence of death! Oh boy!"

"I still can't get over that he gave you two new curses," Thalia muttered to herself. "Not only that but ones that were so incredible. I mean c'mon. Regenerate almost all damage done to the body? That's fucking cheating, I'm telling you. The rest of us plebeians have to actually worry about things like limb severing and major internal hemorrhaging when we fight. I guess the new and improved Percy isn't too caught up on such pedestrian injuries though."

"Yeah, well, it's not all fun and games. The pain is multiplied hundreds-fold. If that asshole of a god hadn't taught me how to focus on things apart from the pain and to isolate it from the forefront of my mind, I'd never be able to use the damn curse," Percy sniped back. "Trust me, it's not a pleasant experience. That aside, my brain in very much vulnerable, as is my heart. People die, eventually I'll die too, more than likely from fighting somebody who finally got the better of me."

"Truth be told, I never really entertained the idea that you could die before the Second Gigantomachy. Even when you went to fight Kronos, I had faith in you. When you went missing, though, it was different. I'm not gonna get into it but…" the lieutenant of Artemis cast her cousin a sidelong glance, her mouth quirking into a smile. "I'm glad you fought your way back to us."

Percy allowed his own lopsided smile to form. "I am too."

An unhurried calm descended upon the duo. Each reveled in the short silence, though Thalia decided to break it eventually. "So you and Annabeth sorted out your problems then? Is everything back to the way it was? Er, at least before the second giant war. Those were much better times for the two of you. I remember that you seemed so happy together. It was never really a surprise that you and she came together eventually. Basically, everybody in camp was wondering when it would happen. I think I heard something about the Stolls winning quite a few drachma over a bet regarding the two of you."

"I can honestly say that I'm both surprised and unsurprised at that knowledge. Of course, the Stolls would bet on something like that, yet I can't believe I'd never found out until just know. Regarding the other thing… well I guess things went pretty well, everything considered. Things aren't back to the way they were, though, it would have been difficult for that to happen given all that's happened. I can say that things went better than they had any right going. I… I made an incredibly selfish request of her… one that should _not_ have gone over well with her. Somehow―for whatever reason―it worked out," Percy explained hesitantly.

"How do you mean? This seems pretty serious."

"Well… how do I explain this," the son of Poseidon ran a hand through his hair. "Well, I recently came to terms that I have a romantic interest in Scáthach… which kinda conflicts with what I feel for Annabeth. I love Annabeth, really I do, but I care deeply for Scáthach as well. That's not mentioning that Scáthach has admitted that she has the same kind of interest in me. The thing is that both Annabeth and Scáthach deserve to be happy, yet here I am, stringing both of them along while I try to think about the situation. I've given them both fair warning, and I would completely understand if they saw me as an ass not really worth dealing with. Even then, though, they both seem adamant on seeing the pursuit through."

"That… is quite the situation. I honestly never thought that _you_ of all people would be in the middle of some cliche love triangle," Thalia teased, though her face soon became serious and somewhat dour. "Not but seriously, you should just make a decision and learn to live with the consequences. It's called adulthood, Percy. We have to make tough choices, then suck it up and face the music, however it may play due to your actions. If you keep both of them hanging on with vague promises and whatnot, eventually, both of them will get tired of it, and you might be left with nothing. It's better that you just go for it and hurt one of them while _you_ get to be happy with the other. That way, two people get to be happy while the third gets to move on, maybe finding something else down the line."

"I… I _know_ that's what I should do. When I think about _choosing_ , though, about… letting the other go, to see me be happy with another person… how can I be happy with that? I could I possible live with that kind of decision, where _I_ was the one to cause somebody that I care deeply for so much pain? I try to _help_ people, not hurt them. So then how could I justify doing that very thing in this situation?"

Thalia sighed and rubbed her eyes with one hand. "Even as you say that… you still don't acknowledge that in not choosing either of them it only hurts all three of you. Your inaction just leads to everybody being miserable instead of just one person. I'm pretty sure the saying goes 'the needs of the many outweigh the needs to the few.' With that in mind, wouldn't one person's pain be justified when more people are happy? This isn't a perfect world where unicorns fart rainbows and Netflix is free. This is the cold, unforgiving world that we live in, one that says 'fuck you and your happiness.' The only way to stick it to the world is to shoot right back and show it that even through all the bullshit, you can _still_ find room to be content."

Percy allowed her words to sink in for a few moments. "I suppose that you're right. I just… well I guess it doesn't matter anymore. I can't believe that this had to happen in the middle of a damn war."

"You can't always decide when this stuff will happen," Thalia pointed out.

"Or who it happens in regards to, right? I imagine this would be infinitely easier if I just… felt the way I do about one person. What are the odds though, that this would happen?"

The raven-haired hunter snorted to herself. "I'm sure they were high. It was a matter of circumstance―I least that's what I believe―considering everything that happened. You were isolated from those you once knew so well, both before and after being taken. Add that you were subjected to some serious shit, and it's hardly surprising that you emotionally latched onto another person for comfort. I'm pretty sure it's human nature to seek comfort from others. Take my assumptions with a grain of salt though, I'm no psychologist."

"Well, I suppose if you put it that way it makes sense. That doesn't justify me being a huge douche and not giving either of them a real answer to their feelings, though," Percy replied sourly.

"Well it's good you feel that way. At least it lets me know that your morals are still in proper order. At least, for the most part. What surprises me is that you didn't try to form an emotional connection earlier on, before the Invasion of Half-Blood Hill. I mean, you spent quite a bit of time alienated from the others, that kind of thing would take its toll on almost anybody."

"Well… see… that's not exactly true," Percy said cautiously.

Thalia let her eyebrows rise. "Oh? What, you had a secret love interest that nobody was aware of? I'd be surprised if that were the case, I never took you for one that could hide that sort of thing. I mean, given how you and Annabeth acted before getting together."

"It was… a complicated scenario. Even I didn't really understand my own interest until after the battle on the hill. When I did take the time to really think back, I realized that I'd just been letting myself grow attached without any thought as to what it might lead to. In a way, I really had let my guard down. As I say it all out loud, now I can finally hear how stupid this sounds."

Percy took a calming breath. His hands suddenly felt sweaty and he was sure that his heart was beating a bit faster than normal. "I won't dance around the subject anymore. Look, Thalia-"

Firmly, Thalia's hand shot up and stopped Percy before he could continue. "No. That's… that's all I need to hear," the young woman responded, her voice somewhat shaky.

"You didn't let me explain," Percy said with a small frown.

Thalia shook her head. "I don't need to, Percy. I understand where you were going with that train of thought. Both of us know why it can't happen though. I have vows to uphold, ones that shouldn't be so easily discarded and broken. You, on the other hand, have your own bag of shit to deal with. Adding me to that list will complicate things further, so don't and just treat me like a non-factor, okay?"

The son of Poseidon gave her an apologetic look, before turning to look at the water. "If that's how you feel, then I'll leave it be. Sorry for bringing it up in the first place, I know it was inappropriate, especially our conversation prior being what it was,"

"Don't apologize for that," the hunter pursed her lips. "True, it would normally sound pretty much like you are looking for excuses to complicate your life further, but knowing you it wouldn't be an active effort. You just manage to land yourself in shit situations at random apparently. Of course, this is partially your own fault…"

"Yeah, no need to tell me that again. I probably made things pretty damn awkward between us, right Thals?"

"It would have been _way_ more awkward if I didn't feel the same about you," Thalia replied quickly.

Percy's eyes snapped to his cousin. "Wait-"

"That being said," Thalia interrupted resolutely. "We know that acting upon what we feel would be disastrous. For one, you're an indecisive dick apparently, so admitting to me that you have romantic feelings for me is pretty ridiculous. All you're doing is saying that even though you have these other two girls pining over you, that you would still like to consider me as a romantic interest. That aside, if Artemis found out that we were having an illicit relationship, no doubt I'd be a woodland creature and you'd be a jackalope in no time flat. I don't know about you, but I prefer staying in human form and not having my head mounted in a goddess' tent for decoration,"

The young man gave his cousin a dry look. "You're right. I just wanted to get what I felt out there. Honestly, while knowing that we would never have worked is disheartening, I still feel a bit better having admitted that to you. It feels, cathartic, so I suppose I should thank you for giving me that opportunity. At least now I can put this out of my mind and move on right?"

Thalia looked at the ground for a moment, scooping up some sand and letting it fall through her open fingers slowly. "Yeah… yeah, we can both move on. I guess, in a way, I've also been waiting for a chance to tell you. I always knew that it was pretty fucking stupid… of course I did… it was a ridiculous and _moronic_ hope. It wasn't even hope, just a desire… _for something_ … I have no fucking clue what that even _means_."

Clenching her hand tightly around the remaining sand, the daughter of Zeus scowled. "I can't even explain myself, how stupid. Let's just put this behind us."

After a moment of uncomfortable quietude, Percy glanced between his cousin's fist and her face. "Thals?"

"What?"

"Both of us don't want that do we?"

"...No."

"I didn't think so."

* * *

Percy stood up slowly, brushing the sand away from his body. He looked down at his cousin, who was staring into the distance, allowing her eyes to stick onto the horizon. For a moment, he too cast his glance out toward the Long Island Sound, taking in the shimmering water. Pulling his eyes back to Thalia, he offered her his hand. The hunter grabbed onto him and pulled herself up with his help.

"I should get ready for the meeting with the council. Mentally prepare myself and all that jazz, since I'm sure there are gonna be questions _galore_ ," the young man sighed.

"I wouldn't doubt it," Thalia responded wryly.

"Thanks for everything, Thals. Our talks always helped me, with whatever I was feeling. Admittedly, this one was pretty bittersweet, though that still doesn't overshadow the fact that it did help."

"Anytime, Percy. Talking to you is always an experience that's for sure. Like you said, this one kinda sucked, but at the same time… eh… I don't actually have anything better to say about it."

Percy chuckled at that, taking his first few steps back. The sand moved beneath his footfalls, crumbling away and splitting. The distance between them grew as he gave her a soft smile, one that did not betray the gripping tension in his chest nor the sudden weakness in his legs. For a moment, he allowed himself to get lost in her electric-blue eyes, the ones that held strong even then when both of them were placed in a no-win scenario. How he adored those eyes. His stomach twisted into knots as he stared at Thalia, the feeling of palpable tension rose within and settled around his body, trapping him in shackles of guilt and remorse and loathing.

"I love you." Percy's voice was nearly lost in a sudden gust of wind that blew onto shore and over the beach.

Thalia's mouth twitched. "I know."

Percy said nothing more, letting the breeze from the ocean cool him even as the boiling of his gut invaded his every sense. Turning around, the Hero of Olympus walked away, preparing himself for what still remained to be done.

* * *

 **A/N: A ton of dialogue. Yet, it was important for character and sub-plot development!**

 **I do hope that nobody expected Percy's love life to be easy. This kind of situation would be difficult to deal with for anybody, and I wanted to show that. Either way, next chapter Percy finally heads back to Olympus and meets with the gods.**


	13. Sell Your Memories, Keep the Bad Days

**A/N: So here's another chapter up. The semester will be ending in a few weeks for my university, which of course means final exams and final projects are about to pound me. I hope you can understand if the next chapter is a bit shorter in length or if it comes out in a month's time. Then again, I might be struck by sudden inspiration so to speak, so I can't really give a good estimate of time. Oh, and of course, thank you for your continued support.**

 _ **Reviews:**_

 **ChrisBMWW155326, Death Fury, Shigure Toshiro, MasterTrident13, Nebular Reaper, Guest- Thank you all for your kind words and reviews.**

 **Autumn and Spring- The story is set to be Percy with Annabeth, Scathach, Thalia, and Hestia. Relationships will be developed as time goes on, and some might come faster than others.**

 **mc ace19- LOL, the tags will be accurate in terms of characters and eventually relationships. Genre tags though might get muddled due to sub-plots of all kinds.**

 **Aetemus- When I was writing the sequence between Percy and Thalia, I let the topic of Percy's involvement with Annabeth and Scathach come up later to shape both his and Thalia's characters in a certain way. Humans can be fairly fickle, at least in my experience that's true. My headcanon for Thalia's response was what I felt would have happened if I were to say the same thing to another human. In my mind, a person would not have wanted to deal with being the third choice, or simply another decision and complication. I could totally be representing these feeling and emotions incorrectly, but that's just how I interpreted something like that going down. Regarding Artemis, you certainly have a point. I've neglected to write much on Thalia's own anger toward the goddess, but I've tried to write Thalia as seeing the Hunt akin to her family, and Artemis a bigger sister figure. Sure, one might get upset with family, leave to cool off hot tempers in times of stress, but in the end, almost nothing can break those familial bonds of love. I'll be sure to do better in giving perspectives of all main characters so that the readers can get more insight into what they're thinking, but I also don't want to show all thoughts all the time. Hopefully I can strike a good balance. Thanks for the review by the way!**

 **spell checker 11111- There will be more to come in the future, I promise!**

 **DEATH11223344- I'm glad I can be inspirational with my banter!**

 **Malosi06- I think the love triangle stuff is driving a few people crazy. Some relationships will be easier for Percy, while others might be less simplistic. I'm still kinda shocked that so many people don't like Annabeth. I actually quite liked the canon pairing of Percabeth that Rick created. Alas, I suppose I can be glad that I've written in such a way to fuel some sort of response in readers. Thanks for your kind words and the review!**

 **Kindred Scarlet- Thanks for your kind words. I always pictured Percy as an idyllic hero of old, at least most of the time that's sort of what Rick evoked from my end. He's steadfast and loyal to his friends and family, especially those closest to him. I took the loyalty and twisted it into more of a detriment than it already was. In the end, I think we can all agree that there is something fundamentally wrong with ignoring self-preservation in certain times. It goes against nature, which makes it unnatural. Regarding the council, well, his interactions there will be given this chapter. Thanks for the review!**

 **blurrybenjamin- Yup, Percy will have a harem. I'm just trying to develop it about as naturally as I can.**

 **justafan- I could always see Thalia with Percy as well. Their personalities are pretty similar, which was something I really enjoyed reading. I agree that there are a lot of stories where nothing seems to get done in the romance department due to the protagonist's own density. Stories where the protagonist has a valid reason for feelings of inadequacy, like neglect, abuse, or other trauma inflicted upon them, however, can really sell me on their character. Either way, thanks for the review!**

 **Fidgety123- Thank you for your support! I tried to build Percy around what was already given to us by Rick, and shape him given the circumstances. I wanted to keep him recognizable, while also putting in a bit of sauce to what we already have. I really enjoyed seeing Percy in Tartarus because we started getting a different side to him. While I didn't want anything extremely angsty or dark, I wanted to show that shit situations can really change a person's values and their outlook on things. I went through the books and constantly read the dialogue between characters for some time before getting too far into this fanfic, just to capture that essence that each character had. I'm glad my research paid off, haha!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not make any money off this work of fanfiction. All rights for the characters in Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus go to Rick Riordan and all who were involved in the creation of the novels.**

* * *

13\. Sell Your Memories, Keep the Bad Days

* * *

' _Second breakfast doesn't sound too bad right about now.'_

Percy's mind wandered to the breakfast he'd eaten with Thalia only fifteen minutes prior. He recalled the end of their conversation. A smile crossed his lips, even as the moment replayed in his mind where he felt his gut clench painfully. Even after everything that the God of Evil had put him through, Percy could say for certain, that he didn't have a heart of stone. The pain he'd felt in that moment had been real and true. Though Angra Mainyu had tried, he failed to do what he'd promised. Percy soon cleared his mind of the thoughts that ran through his mind, realizing that dwelling on them for too long at any point would do him little to no good. Luckily, he had plenty of practice burying pain deep, once again, thanks to Ahriman.

Percy's eyes drifted down toward the plate of food that was in his hand. It was a simple meal, one similar to the what he'd eaten with his cousin. Although there was no spectacle to it, Percy doubted that Scáthach would care much, if at all. Something he learned while in Purgatory was that even though the magenta-haired woman enjoyed occasional luxuries, more often than not she preferred things kept simple.

Angra Mainyu could provide a great many things due to his status, yet even then, Percy had never seen Scáthach ask for much. While it was true that she relished in the infrequent massages, that was perhaps the only thing she allowed herself entitlement to. Now, Percy wondered if there was not an ulterior design behind those massages, considering what she had admitted to him in Scotland.

While Angra Mainyu could obtain practically any vice for one's own indulgence, Percy never saw Scáthach ask for anything of the sort. Perhaps the only thing that could qualify was her fancy for orange juice, which bordered on dependency in his mind.

Shaking his thoughts away, Percy knocked on the door that he'd been standing in front of. Considering that he hadn't seen Scáthach out and about already, he assumed that she was still inside the room she'd been directed to. After the talk with Annabeth, there had been no time for him to check on his newest mentor due to his exhaustion. That aside, her door had been closed, which led him to assume that she'd decided to turn in for the night as well.

Soon the door swung inward. Scáthach looked at Percy, then down to the plate of food in his hand, and ushered him inside. Hearing a soft click, the once-demigod turned around and saw that his friend had closed the door once more.

Percy looked around the room, taking note that it was almost a carbon copy of the one he occupied the night prior. While the room wasn't particularly opulent, neither was it spartan. It looked well decorated, ready to be lived in for an extended period of time. There were drapes on the windows and soft rugs on the floors beneath each piece of movable furniture. An armoire occupied the wall near a chair and ottoman set, neatly snuggled next to the door that led to a small bathroom. The bed was pressed against the opposite wall, allowing a decent amount of access directly in the middle of the room.

Scáthach made her way to the bed, flopping down onto it. She crossed her arms behind her and one leg over the other, adjusting herself into a relaxed position.

"Breakfast in bed? Why Percy, you shouldn't have!" Scáthach let out a faux gasp of surprise when she saw her friend place down the plate full of food.

"You were already up by the time I brought this by, don't try to lie to me," Percy rolled his eyes and sat down on the bed while Scáthach adjusted herself to sit with her back against the headboard.

"True, but that doesn't change the fact that as we speak, you are giving me breakfast. That in addition to myself still being in bed and you can see how your argument falls flat," Scáthach retorted with a smirk. The woman picked up the utensils that Percy had brought and began to calmly eat her food.

For his part, Percy shook his head softly. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. Personally, I have to say that a real breakfast in bed is given when the other person _wakes up_ to getting their breakfast. Some people find that sort of thing sweet I guess."

Scáthach nodded in agreement, taking a bite from her waffles. "Many people do. I wouldn't want to spill anything on the comforter though, especially white or light colors one. Trust me, that yellow color from egg yolk is pretty hard to get rid of."

"So you have experience then? I never took you for one to ask for that kind of treatment. I always figured you were a simple person." In truth, it wasn't just that Percy believed her to be like that, but more that it was what he'd observed throughout the years. He doubted that she could have hidden a more vain side of herself with all the time that they spent together. Surely he would have noticed a character trait such as vanity within the five years he'd spent in Purgatory.

"It was a novel idea, but I found it lacking in several areas," The witch admitted with a shrug. "Your impression of me would be correct most of the time though. I try to keep away from becoming decadent. Self-indulgence simply doesn't suit me as it does some others. I knew a great many people who allowed themselves to fall prey to their sybaritic ways, most of which were kings and those in positions of power. Of course, this lifestyle would more often than not lead to the decline of their quality of life, ironic as it was. Without innovation, expansion, aggressive avenues of improvement, one will eventually fall victim to their complacency and apathy. When that does happen, those people soon enough learn their mistake, though often the time to remedy the situation has long passed."

There was a certain acidity in Scáthach's voice, something that Percy easily noticed. It was rare for him to hear loathing coming from her, especially when it was not directed at deities in direct conversation.

Percy arched an eyebrow at his friend. "Aren't people allowed to become complacent though? I would think that after working hard all of your life, you get to at least rest for some time. The way you say it makes it sound like there's never gonna be time for a siesta here and there. People can't live like machines, going on and on without rest."

"And never once did I say they had too. Do you really think that I wouldn't know the importance of relaxation after strenuous times? No, what I'm talking about goes beyond the everyday life of mortals and immortals. It's a battle of ideals, Percy. Never stagnate, but do take a break here and there. Don't stop growing, but don't forget to sleep and unwind. Become strong for your own sake, yet never underestimate the power of a good book and a warm fire to sit by. I'm not talking about the small, minute details of one's mundane life. I speak of the greater source that drives humanity to reach great heights. You and I can understand that. We have an expiration date from the moment we're born. Even then, we strive to become greater than what we were created as." Scáthach lectured between mouthfuls of strawberries. Percy figured that her speech would have been far more impressive had she not been constantly chewing while she spoke.

"Man this conversation took an odd turn. We went from talking about breakfast in bed to delving into the inner desires of the whole human race. Talk about a tangent. Let's just drop the subject and get to the real reason I came to see you."

"You mean it wasn't for my company only? You wound me, Young Hero. Truly, your words and impressions cut deep."

Percy gave Scáthach a dry glance. "I came here to tell you that you'll be joining me on Olympus. I mean, I'd already figured you'd be coming along, no matter what I said… I suppose I'm actually here to tell you to behave yourself while we're up there."

"Oh? Behave myself?" Scáthach's eyes roved over his form before they returned to his face. "The way you carry yourself while speaking leads me to believe that you actually felt the need to warn me, and that this isn't sardonicism. With that being the case I can only assume that you have some kind of plan for the meeting, one that you've yet to inform me of. As you know, however, more often than not, _I'm_ the one that needs to give _you_ advice, not the other way around."

"Look, there is no plan, I just need you _not_ to piss any of the gods off. I'm nearly certain I don't have to say this, but just for chuckles, I will… we need them on our side, so it would be in your best interest to try to get along with them," Percy paused and scratched at his neck. "We don't need to grovel at their feet or kiss their ass, but cooperation runs smoothly when both parties involved aren't at each other's throats. At least, that's what I've been led to believe, I dunno, could be wrong."

Scáthach paused for a moment, allowing herself the time to think about her student's words. With a small frown, the woman looked at the plate in her hands. "No, no, you're correct in that sense. Tell me then, are you willing to forgive them for what they did to you all those years ago? Their harsh and brash actions caused you no small amount of inner grief, as well as a substantial amount of outer suffering. Will you then just let that go? You didn't seem to have a problem doing so for these demigods at camp."

"Forgive them?" Percy drawled, rolling the words over his tongue contemplatively. His eyes scanned the room for several seconds as he mulled over what the magenta-haired warrior had said. "Maybe… I don't know for sure though. When I think about what happened, I can understand where they were coming from. The gods were afraid. Fear is a powerful motivator. On top of that, I really do think they had their kids' best interests at heart when making their decision. Can you really fault them for taking into account not only their own safety, but that of their children as well? I know that I can't."

The son of Poseidon stood up and walked away from the bed. He made his way toward the curtains, pulling them open and letting the sunlight stream into the room. From the room's position on the second floor of the renovated Big House, Percy could see much of the camp. Squinting against the nearly blinding sun he pursed his lips as he watched a few of the campers walking around. From his position, the young man decided to speak.

"No matter their wishes though… forgiving them… maybe not. For now, I can work with them to stop Spenta Mainyu. After everything's done though? We'll just have to wait and see how I feel then. I'll probably not stay here at camp any longer than I need to. Let's face it, I don't belong here anymore. I don't even know where I would go…"

Scáthach watched her love interest worriedly. "Well, I'm not quite sure on that myself. Perhaps you can stay with your parents while you decide on where to take your life after this is over. Just remember what I told you…" The witch trailed off when Percy suddenly spun around to face her, his face twisting into a grimace. "What is it? You look sick."

"I totally forgot to visit my mom before coming here."

"Ah…" The woman nodded her head forlornly. "Well, it's been nice knowing you. I'll be sure to let Ahriman know how you died. Truly, a mother's wrath can be terrible."

Percy shook his head in exasperation. "You're missing the point. My mom isn't a violent person by any stretch of the imagination." He paused and looked pensive for a moment. "Well… there was that time she used Medusa's head to turn Gabe to stone…"

"Mhm… truly, a mother's wrath can be terrible."

"That's not the point! I just feel bad that I didn't go to see her sooner. She's been through so much for me… I can't imagine how she's felt these past five years. I mean… she sacrificed so much already… and just when she was learning what happiness was again… I up and vanished from her life. Do you think she'll be upset?" Percy asked, biting his lip as he rubbed his arm.

The woman reflected upon his question. He'd told her a bit about his mother while they'd been in Purgatory, and while it may not have been enough for other people to draw conclusions from, it was enough for her. Scáthach knew that Sally Jackson protected her son as much as she could, which made Sally a great mother.

"Probably… but I don't think that her anger would outweigh the relief she felt in getting to hold you close to her again. In that moment, I doubt that anything you said or did could ruin the moment of seeing you. Trust me… a mother loves her child… across the greatest of distances… not even a distance brought by death could sever that love. I… nevermind," Scáthach looked down at her food, which was mostly gone. She moved her fork to finish off what still remained as the silence stretched for some time between them.

"I'm sure you understand that topic better than most."

Percy's voice was soft, gentle with a touch of compassion to it that Scáthach was easy to pick up on. When she glanced back up at her friend, she saw that his eyes were lingering on her. Their eyes met, with Percy letting a small smile cross his lips garnering a similar, if more subdued, response from his mentor.

"I do. My daughter... I still love her, even after these two-thousand years. Even as centuries have come and gone…" The warrior-woman admitted with something akin to longing in her tone. "I still remember the days that we spent together. I still remember the talks that we had, the arguments, the heated words, and the apologies. Yes, I still love her, even after death took her from me… even after Mórrígan took her from me. There's no point in dwelling on the negative aspects of one's relationships after they've broken down. As with all other aspects of life, one must look toward the new day, facing it to the best of their ability. True strength, in my opinion, is about fighting what you fear the most, even when all seems lost."

Upon hearing her words, Percy flinched. "...Is that so? I guess that makes sense. Be that as it may, I'd say that we got off topic… again."

Scáthach shrugged. "I'd disagree. In a way, I feel like my words can apply to the situation that we find ourselves in right now. You've done well so far in facing what's happened. I can't say that I'd agree on the exact way you're handling things, however, I can't deny that you're impressive with your generosity. Still, don't you think that perhaps easily forgiving them is… undermining the strength that you've proven to me already? People might try to take advantage of you."

Percy laughed out loud at that. "Well, they can try if they want. I choose who and what I want to protect, nobody else makes that choice for me. Even me going after Ahriman is my own choice. Chaos pushed me in that direction… but I have to agree with her."

"Hm. Decisions and choices, huh?" The woman rubbed her chin with one hand. "Sometimes I wonder if we ever really do have a choice. That's neither here nor there though. Tell me, how did your discussion with the architect last night go?"

"You really like to avoid her name don't you?" Percy asked with a sigh.

"It would seem that way wouldn't it?" Scáthach smiled.

Percy gave her a dry chuckle. "I guess it went pretty well. We talked, she apologized, and all that jazz. When it was said and done I felt pretty good. Honestly, it went as well as I hoped, which kinda makes me feel a bit uncomfortable considering usually my hopes and dreams are dashed before they get off the ground."

"Complaining about your situation will get you nowhere, Young Hero."

"Yeah, yeah, so you keep on telling me. In my defense, life has dealt me a pretty shitty hand…"

"Yes, though as I said before, you can't allow yourself to wallow in self-pity. Let others pity you. Believe me, there are plenty out there who would do so if you just told them your life story. Unfortunately, if one were to collapse into themselves mourning the loss of their future, then they never deserved that future in the first place. There is no room in the world for fools like that."

The young man crossed his arms and quirked his eyebrow. "So harsh. I mean, I kinda agree with you, I'd just never put it in those exact terms… probably."

Scáthach placed the now empty plate on the nightstand that rested beside her bed. She tapped her finger on her chin as she glanced at the digital clock on the stand. "How much time do we have until the meeting?'

"About… three hours or so," Percy replied after checking the clock himself. "Why, is there something you want to do?"

Gesturing to her clothes the woman nodded. "Neither of us have changed our clothes in a while. I figured that it would be proper etiquette to arrive on Olympus with presentable attire, instead of in something we've worn for several days and nights already. We aren't exactly dressed to kill. Even though I care little for appearing nice in front of gods, we should at least be slightly courteous."

"True enough," the son of Poseidon agreed while pulling at his blue t-shirt. Even though both of them had been in Edinburgh for some time, neither had thought of buying more outfits to wear for the future. In retrospect, he realized that both of them had probably counted on Ahriman answering them eventually, even though Chaos had been sure that they would arrive without the God of Evil interrupting. "Well, I know there are some clothing stores in East Hampton just from passing through that area so many times. We might be able to find some good clothes there if you want to go look."

"How far is it from here?" Scáthach queried. She stood up, stretching out her back, eliciting a few notable pops from her spine as she moved.

"Not too far. Shouldn't take us longer than thirty minutes or so. Besides, I'm sure Hestia would be able to find us if we ran out of time before the meeting started, and just teleport us up to Olympus no problem."

With a nod, the witch gestured to the door. "Very well. Let's be off then. It would be best that we are back here before Hestia comes looking for us. After all, it would be best if we were away from mortal eyes when she takes us to Olympus. On top of that, it would be rude to make her look for us."

"Yeah, good idea," Percy said as he walked toward the door. "Alright then, we should go find Chiron to let him know the plan, just so that Hestia has a clue in case something happens and we get stuck in town."

* * *

 _Olympus…_

"Okay, seriously who the hell decided to put up all of these statues of the gods on the pathway to the 'council room', or whatever it's called. I mean, can you guys be any more conceited?" Scáthach's voice rang out on the busy road.

Percy and Hestia looked at one another, both were stifling their chuckles as a few minor gods that were wandering around seemed incensed by the witch's words. There were a few that looked ready to speak against the magenta-haired woman, though most seemed to think better of it when they saw that she was walking with both Percy and Hestia. Even then, though, the Hero of Olympus could see the angry glances stolen toward the woman.

Several hours had passed since Percy and Scáthach had gone shopping for clothes. Both had picked out new outfits that would be more appropriate for meeting the gods, while still being in a style that they could be comfortable wearing.

Percy, admittedly, didn't care very much for looking snazzy, but more for looking like he hadn't just been picked up from under a bridge. He was sure that his old outfit had started to smell a bit too much like sweat, even for his taste, meaning that other people undoubtedly must have been slightly off-put by the odor. He was a bit embarrassed that he'd been in close proximity to Annabeth, Thalia, and Scáthach in that particular shirt, though he figured that they could give him a pass.

While shopping with his mentor, Percy had chosen a fairly casual outfit consisting of jeans, a black graphic t-shirt underneath a purple long sleeve shirt and black sneakers. He'd buttoned the shirt up to the middle of his chest, leaving the rest open, allowing one to see some of the Muse logo on his t-shirt. By Scáthach's recommendation, the sleeves of his shirt were folded up to his elbows. Overall, Percy had to admit that he felt quite good in the outfit, even though it wasn't something that he wore often.

Normally, he tried to avoid dress shirts and button-up shirts, however, he felt a newfound appreciation for them now. If he wore it right, it felt nice and comfortable, while still looking fairly neat on him. While he wouldn't say that vanity became him, Percy could admire Scáthach's taste and how it made him appear to those around him. Heck, even Hestia had complimented him on his attire when she saw him.

The young man glanced over at his magenta-haired friend, who was shooting some of the wandering residents of Olympus small glares. Percy knew that she had few good things to say about gods in general, however, he'd never imagined that she would be so unpleasant toward most that she met. Even with Hestia, the witch could be quite brusque. While it wasn't a problem for the Goddess of the Hearth due to her normally amicable attitude, Percy worried that the less pleasant gods might take serious offense to Scáthach's attitude.

"Is she always so…" Hestia trailed off as she whispered to Percy. Scáthach was walking a few feet in front of them, giving Hestia and Percy some room to talk in relative privacy.

"Harsh? No, not particularly. I'd say most of the time she's actually pretty pleasant to hang out with. She just has a bad history with gods taking things away from her…"

Hestia raised an eyebrow and stared at the witch of Dún Scáith. Percy followed the goddess' eyes, allowing himself to take in his friend's appearance.

Scáthach had also changed her clothes in East Hampton, having discarded her tan leather jacket for a two-tone cotton long sleeve shirt, with a gray body and blue sleeves. She'd swapped her black skinny jeans for a pair of stark white ones, moving colors to the other end of the spectrum. A pair of red converse finished her ensemble.

"I'm aware of her legend. After she took you away from us, a fair amount of resources went into researching and gathering information regarding those who were responsible. While we were never able to learn anything very useful, we did at least garner some new knowledge," Hestia explained as she gestured toward Scáthach. The witch didn't turn around, remaining facing forward as she marched onward to the Olympian throne room.

"Fair amount?" Percy questioned as glanced at his aunt. "Should I be indignant because it wasn't more, or should I be content because at least something was done?" The query had no confrontational tone to it, helping Hestia to understand that Percy was simply curious as to what she believed.

The goddess took a few moments to collect her thoughts as she hummed thoughtfully into her fist. "That's something that I can't answer for you, Percy. Truth be told, I never found it satisfactory in any way, mostly because I realized after some time that we were getting nowhere. Many of the gods, be them minor or major made real efforts to uncover something useful. We held meetings to brainstorm ideas on where you could have been taken, and what plan of action we could take to help. Of course, we were never able to actually act upon our plans… due in part to two main reasons. One being that we simply had no solid leads as to where you were. Second being that we were apprehensive of leaving Olympus and the West for any amount of time. It has been shown to us that we have many enemies, ones that are sure to pounce on any sign of weakness in order to harm us."

Percy said nothing in response as he stared ahead of him. His eyes rested on the figure of his mentor, who had her hands stuffed in her pockets as she walked on. Scáthach's shoulders were slightly pushed forward into a hunch, though there was no lack of confidence in her stride. With a small smirk twisting his lip, Percy shrugged at the goddess next to him.

"Don't sweat it," he said casually. "Honestly, Purgatory wasn't too bad. I can say that… at times… it was pretty fun."

Hestia gave her nephew a smile. "Yes, from what you described last night I gathered that much. The people that you met there seemed to be especially lively. I would never have figured that Genghis Khan of all people would have you calling him 'Uncle Tem'. While I never met the conqueror personally, I know that he was feared throughout much of the Eurasian landmass. Of course, that isn't downplaying my surprise at the descriptions of the others that you shared."

"That definitely wasn't the biggest surprise for me," Percy intoned as he shook his head.

"I'm going to guess that Mordred's reveal was what really got to you," Hestia offered with a kind smile.

The son of Poseidon nodded his head while chuckling. "Oh yeah, that was the big one all right. Years, Hestia! For years I'd been under the assumption that she was actually a _he_! Not just when I was in Purgatory either, before even that, reading about Arthurian legends. Then, I finally meet the knight, and she has this deep gravelly voice…" Percy continued to explain how he'd been duped with wild gesticulations to help convey his true feelings.

Hestia listened to her nephew's rant, occasionally stifling a laugh behind her hand. Her eyes were alight with warmth and fondness as Percy finished his story, finally calming down and shaking his head.

Hestia allowed herself to let loose as her body was wracked by her guffawing and soon her breathing became labored as she doubled over. Percy smiled at seeing his aunt beside herself in the fits of laughter that had taken her. Eventually, he slowed down as Hestia could no longer continue to walk forward. The goddess had her hands on her knees as she attempted to reel in the raucous chortles that escaped her throat. Percy looked ahead of him to see that Scáthach had stopped walking and was staring at the two of them with confusion.

Looking around, the young man noticed that many of the residents of Olympus were directing their gazes toward Hestia and himself. He gave the interested parties a slight wave of his hand. Percy surmised that the denizens were not accustomed to seeing the normally composed Hestia in such a state. True enough, even to him, the outburst was quite funny to see. He was sure that he'd never heard his aunt laughing as hard as she was then and there. A feeling of satisfaction surged through him as he saw Hestia's smiling face.

It took a few moments longer but eventually, the goddess contained her humor enough to where only a few small giggles left her from time to time. "I'm sorry for keeping us from our destination… it's just… I can't stop picturing your face when Mordred took off her helmet. Every time I imagine what you must have looked like, I can't help but be amused."

"No, it's fine. I'm sure that my face looked pretty hilarious at that time. Hell, I think Mordred was having a tough time keeping it together if that glint in her eye was anything to go off," Percy admitted. "Trust me, Mordred is nothing if not a collected individual."

The young man looked to Scáthach, who was standing a fair distance away, picking at her nails disinterestedly. The witch glanced up and caught Percy's eye. She relayed her question through an inquisitive gesture with her eyebrow. Percy shook his head in reply and shrugged his shoulders deftly. The witch turned on her heel and stared at the road ahead of them, her head scanning from side to side. The trio was on the main pathway that was undoubtedly a commercial area. Given the amount of bodies out and about, Percy wondered if there was something happening on Olympus, or if it was always that busy. He'd never seen the divine city in such a buzz.

"Your companion seems to be in a hurry," Hestia noted.

"Like I said before, she just isn't one who is very fond of gods, whatever shape or size they may come in. I'm pretty sure that she has a bone to pick with Celtic pantheon, which translated over to the others with time. I'm afraid she might be disillusioned with the world and people in general, especially deities. I don't blame her for it either… it's hard to live as a mortal at the whim of those who think themselves better," Percy explained as he resumed walking.

Hestia pursed her lips and placed her hands behind her back. "Yes, it's been that way for thousands of years. Those with power tend to grow reliant on it, eventually growing to fear the loss of what makes them powerful. It is in the nature of living beings to exert their influence and build something that can last through the ages. It can be a monument, or a progeny, it doesn't make a difference. Of course, we gods, being nearly immortal in all aspects, tend to lose sight of compassion when we can bend the laws of nature at our whim."

"That doesn't just relate to gods though," Percy drawled. "In the end, it taints all layers of life, with nothing being innocent in the end. Compassion for living beings? If everybody thought about that, nothing would ever get done. I mean, technically, even bacteria are alive and everywhere. Nobody thinks about hurting the bacteria though, because of the argument of sentient life and whatnot."

The goddess perked an eyebrow at his response. "Who have you been speaking to that makes you question things like this? It seems quite odd to hear you say all of these things, arguing that it's in our nature to be selectively empathetic."

"Who else if not that bastard of a god?" Percy murmured, a frown crossing his expression. He knew that the views of Angra Mainyu would be less that appreciated by many people for their nihilistic tendencies, yet he found the god interesting to an extent. There was something about the charisma that Ahriman tended to exude that helped Percy become receptive toward what the god usually said. During his time in Purgatory, there was little doubt that Ahriman had influenced Percy to some extent, which the son of Poseidon knew about. Still, when hearing what the god had to say about the structure of the world and of fate itself, it was difficult not to listen and absorb.

Yet, even through the lectures, Percy was far from indoctrinated and subscribed to what Ahriman was selling. While the young man could agree with many things that the God of Evil would say, there were just some things that they would never agree on.

Angra Mainyu was a god, after all. He looked at the bigger picture nearly all the time. With that in mind, he often lost sight of the present, planning far ahead in attempts to keep ahead of the curve. While Percy was uncertain of all that Angra Mainyu had planned, it seemed that as long as the world was safe, he was happy.

Certainly, the world was never meant to be perfect, especially not in Ahriman's eyes, however, there was still merit to keeping in relatively peaceful and orderly. After all, humans were creatures that committed their own sins, no matter how small, easily enough. For him, there was no need to create more discord and spread more suffering.

At least, that's what Percy had garnered from spending five years in the presence of the god. There could easily have been something he missed, which would have made sense. Even if that were the case though, there would be no point in dwelling on it any longer. Eventually, if things played out how Percy hoped, the god would be dead, followed shortly thereafter by his brother. While it was true that Percy had gotten to know the god a bit better, somehow, he'd always known that eventually, Ahriman would have to die.

"He certainly has given you a new perspective on things, hasn't he?" Hestia asked, her tone almost chiding.

"Yeah, he did. I didn't even notice it happening until about a year ago when Muramasa commented on it," the young man agreed. "It was weird, actually. Waking up one day and being told that you've adopted more ideas of somebody viewed as evil incarnate is definitely a wake-up call. When I looked at it objectively though, I couldn't argue with what Muramasa said."

With a nod, the Goddess of the Hearth took one of Percy's hands in her own, giving it a squeeze of reassurance. "Just because you can agree with some things that he says, doesn't mean that you will become him. What led to his becoming what he is… that was a culmination of experiences that would be difficult to re-create. Not only that, but you and he are fundamentally different people."

Percy looked at his aunt with lowered eyes. "Are we though? Me and him, are we really all that different? Do you know how he came to be the God of Evil? Or how he became All the World's Evil?"

"I'm afraid I don't know the full story. He was human once, though one day he was apparently visited by Ahura Mazda. A deal was struck, and from that point, records seem to agree that the Zoroastrian God of Evil, a being named Angra Mainyu, was introduced into the world. Apart from that, which is surely not the full story, I don't know much else," Hestia remarked, her head cocked to the side as she recollected what she'd learned.

Letting out a sigh, the former demigod began to explain to his aunt what Angra Mainyu himself had told about his past. For her part, Hestia never interrupted as Percy recounted the story, allowing herself to indulge in the gathering of new knowledge. When Percy finished, the goddess remained silent for some time. The two were walking sedately, however, they eventually caught up to where Scáthach had been waiting for them. The witch had never resumed her trek toward the throne room, instead having remained standing, waiting for her student and the goddess to catch up to her.

"Good discussion?" The magenta-haired woman asked as she fell into step beside Percy.

"I suppose it was," Percy said. "Finally decided to let us catch up to you, huh? What's wrong, were you getting lonely walking ahead of us the whole time?" The young man teased as he bumped his shoulder against Scáthach's.

For her part, the woman allowed a wide smile to cross her lips. Nodding her head, Scáthach gestured with her hand to the area around them. "As a matter of fact, it was fairly lonely to walk alone in this place. So many unfriendly faces around, not to mention so many that seem completely complacent with their position in life. A sense of stagnation is all I can feel, truly and utterly disgusting to me."

Percy glanced at his friend, before he gave her a shrug. "Not everybody can be like you, Scáthach. Some people don't have huge ambitions or the desire to never stop marching forward. Not everybody can be a soldier. Some people are content with being civilians and pedestrians in life."

"I know." The response was clipped and did nothing to hide the contempt that reverberated through those two words.

The trio fell into silence as they finally saw the large domed structure that housed the Olympian throne room. The commercial zone soon gave way to a more subdued residential area, with only a few houses nearby. Eventually, even those vanished, leaving behind only the road, the statues that lined it, and the sight of the massive structure before them. Looking around, Percy took note that there were no more residents lingering around them, going about their business and day to day life. It was only them, leaving a cold feel to the atmosphere. Gone was the jubilant vibe that he had been receiving earlier.

"Well," Percy started as the three reached the massive doors to the throne room. "Should we just go in?" While there was a small pit in his stomach, it was nowhere near as large as when he was staring at the hill just the day before. Here, he felt a form of detachment for the situation. He didn't have any particularly strong bonds with any of the Olympians, perhaps except for Hestia and his father. Thus, he would only really be reintroduced to Poseidon with this meeting. At camp, there were more people that he had attachments to. Thankfully, he'd handled that situation the best he possibly could. Only one remained.

Hestia looked between her nephew and the woman that he'd brought with him. She took a breath and nodded her head. The goddess moved forward and pushed at the doors. Swinging open, the massive doors opened to reveal the council, fully assembled and looking quite bored.

Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, Athena, and Hades each had a book in hand. Each were flipping through their pages with lackadaisical motions. Ares and Dionysus were both asleep on their thrones, heads tossed back and mouths agape as soft snores left them. Demeter was running a critical eye over the ingredient information of a cereal box, her face showing signs of displeasure at whatever she was seeing. Artemis was showing an uninterested Aphrodite how to sharpen a knife using a whetstone. Hephaestus had his hands busy polishing a celestial bronze shield, running a cloth over the shiny metal. Apollo held a notebook in his hands, with a pencil in the other as he occasionally jotted something down. The god looked to be deep in thought as he constantly erased the previous thing he had written. Hermes was tapping away on his phone, his eyes drooping slightly as he stared at the blue screen in front of him.

Due to the doors not making any noise when they opened, none of the Olympians looked up from their activities. Percy glanced over each of the gods, taking in their appearance after not having seen them for years. None of them had changed much, if at all. Zeus still wore his suit, Dionysus was still pudgy, and Athena still looked stern as ever.

Before he could speak, Percy was interrupted by Hestia, who leaned closer to him and Scáthach. "Perhaps it would be best if Ms. Scáthach waited outside and out of view prior to her introduction. This will allow us a chance to get pleasantries out of the way before business can be brought up and an explanation can be given."

"That's an idea I can agree with," the witch said herself, crossing her arms. "Very well, I'll wait out here until you decide the time is right."

Percy gave his mentor an odd look. "You sure about that? It took quite some time to explain to the campers what happened last night. I doubt the story will go any faster with the gods."

The woman shrugged. "That's fine. I think I'll be okay on my own for a few hours. Leave the doors open a bit though, they seem fairly thick. I don't know if I could hear you calling me from beyond these hunks of metal."

With that said, Scáthach moved away from the doors and walked toward the railing of the walkway. Leaning against it, she looked out over the Manhattan area. Percy closed his eyes for a moment before he opened them again and nodded at Hestia. The goddess nodded back and took his hand, leading him into the throne room.

None of the gods glanced their way, something which Percy attributed to them still being of normal size, instead of being towering giants. Had he and Hestia been a few dozen feet taller like the Olympians, undoubtedly they would have been noticed as soon as they entered the room.

Eventually, both Percy and Hestia came to a rest near the middle of the room, next to the hearth that crackled softly. The fire burned low, yet Percy could feel the heat emanating from it. The color was a typical orange, showing that there was no particularly strong disposition to any of the Olympians, or that there was no collective emotion that ran high. Much like the campfire in Camp Half-Blood, the hearth in the throne room reflected the general mood of those gathered around it. If it were to change to any color other than orange, then that would be an indicator of a strong emotion being prominent within the group.

It was Zeus who first tore his eyes away from the pages of his book to look at the two new figures in the throne room. Percy gave him a wave and a smile, while Hestia did the same, though she added a nod on her part. The God of the Sky allowed his jaw to drop a few inches as his eyes rapidly switched between Hestia and Percy. None of the other Olympians had taken notice of Zeus' flabbergasted expression, even as he fumbled to keep the book in his hands from falling to the floor.

"P-P-Pos…" Zeus' stammering drew his wife's attention to the stricken god.

Hera had her eyebrows scrunched together as she glanced at her husband. She was opening her mouth just as she caught a glimpse of the two people standing at the hearth. Her own eyes widened at seeing her elder sister poised next to the lost Hero of Olympus. The goddess let out a soft, strangled noise that left both Percy and Hestia covering their mouths to curb the onset of chuckles that nearly took hold of them.

At that, many of the other gods looked at both Zeus and Hera, then to the hearth. A few seconds of silence permeated the throne room as the Olympians took the time to evaluate what they were seeing.

It took some time, but eventually, the initial shock wore thin. Poseidon reacted first, moving out of his throne and shrinking to mortal size in record time.

Percy had just enough time to brace himself before he was enveloped in a tight hug from his father. The two stood in the embrace for what seemed like minutes, Percy had gone ahead and wrapped his own arms around the god strongly. The young man allowed himself to relax. Even after so long, it still felt good to have his father hug him. He breathed deeply, getting the familiar smell of an ocean breeze stuck in his mind. Memories of his younger years came in earnest back to the forefront of his brain, sticking to the back of the scent that was so decidedly Poseidon's.

It was only when he heard a small sniffle that Percy released his hold and move back. Looking at the God of the Sea, he saw that there were tears gathered in his eyes, threatening to slip. Percy allowed himself to smile bitterly as his father wiped at his eyes, gathering his wits. The young man looked beyond his father for a moment and saw the other gods stealing glances at one another. Percy ignored them once again as the Sea God ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it a bit but not ruining the effect any.

"How does your hair do it?" Poseidon asked suddenly, his voice sounding tight and constricted.

Percy was slightly thrown by the question considering it's nature. His surprise was diminished however when he realized that there was probably no good way to start a conversation after so long. With that in mind, Percy decided to roll with it. "It's just a side-effect of being a badass. Sorry old man, but the look just doesn't work on you."

The Sea God let out a bark of wet laughter, using his finger to wipe more moisture from his eyes. "You're probably right. My time for having such a cool and hip haircut is long over, but I guess letting my son carry on such a legacy isn't a bad consolation."

Percy gave his father a crooked smile. "Don't worry about it Dad, I'm awesome enough for the both of us. One day, when they write about my accomplishments, I'm sure there'll be some mention of you in there."

Poseidon sniffled again and gave Percy a subdued smile. "I'm… I'm very glad you're back, Percy." His face morphed into a deep scowl. "I would like to know, however, why I feel such a vile blemish marking your very essence."

"That's just another thing I'm gonna have to explain, along with the reason I came here in the first place," Percy said with a frown and a nod. "I wish I could say that things are gonna be peachy from here on out. Unfortunately, we have problems basically knocking on our doorstep that we really should get rid of." Letting go of a long-suffering sigh, Percy scratched the bottom of his chin.

The Sea God took the moment to look back at the other Olympians. Most eyes were set on the young man near the hearth, who was still silently staring at the marble floors with narrowed eyes. Poseidon glanced at his son once more, before placing a hand on his shoulder.

Percy didn't respond immediately, instead continuing to consider his words. Finally, he shrugged the hand from his body and took a step back gesturing for his father to sit down once more. Glancing to his side, he motioned for Hestia to do the same at her far throne.

For his part, the sea deity looked a bit affronted, but complied nonetheless and went to his throne. Once he was back at his godly height he took a seat and leaned forward slightly, indicating to his son that he was prepared to listen.

Hestia hesitated. She studied her nephew for a few seconds, receiving a quirked eyebrow in return from the young man. Seconds passed before she gave him a reluctant nod and returned to her own seat of power.

"First a foremost let's get this out of the way," Percy started, his voice holding strong in the large, grandiose room. "I'm _not_ going to attack you. Truthfully, I feel no need for revenge. I can understand why you did what you did. I don't like it, but I can empathize with what you might have been feeling."

Athena was the first to speak out, not surprising Percy with her question. "You aren't upset with us?"

"You misinterpreted my meaning, Athena. Of course I'm upset with you. I just see no need for violence at this point," Percy rolled his eyes while dismissively waving away the question. "Believe what you want, but I find it hard to believe that I'm supposed to bring the destruction of Olympus alone. I'm strong, sure, but strong enough to fight all fourteen of you at the same time and still win?" Percy shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm not a moron. That would be a _very_ difficult fight, one that would honestly do neither of us any good in this situation.

"What situation might you be referring to?" Hades asked, steepling his fingers.

Percy directed his attention toward the God of the Underworld. "I think you already know what I'm talking about. Before we get any further into that though, I think you should all know what's been going on these past five years with me. Then we'll get into the real discussion."

The Olympians save for Hestia looked between one another, murmuring a few words to the neighbors before turning back to face Percy. Nobody said anything, each of the gods' eyes were trained solely on the son of Poseidon, who took the chance to ask for both water and a chair to sit in.

Hestia and Poseidon were the ones who reacted quickest, in complete competition with one another. As such, Percy was left awkwardly deciding between two seats and two glasses of water. Shaking his head at the odd situation, the young man decided to split the difference and sat down in the chair that Hestia had conjured, while grabbing the glass of water that his father had created.

"Alright, let's start. You see, after the fight on the hill, I woke up in a pretty comfy bed…"

* * *

Percy tilted his head back, finishing off his water with a satisfied hum. Placing the glass down, the young man propped his elbows on his knees and intertwined his fingers. Leaning forward, he rested his head lightly on his hands, peering curiously at the gods sitting across from him.

Time had passed quickly during Percy's explanation. When he'd told the campers the same story, it had taken a little over three hours to recount everything in decent detail. When he considered that he'd just told the Olympians the very same thing, it left him with a vague sense of how long he'd been talking for. Thankfully there were no interruptions by any particularly curious gods. Undoubtedly, there would be many questions asked, but since they would be asked after the story, it wouldn't be as annoying as being cut off from his train of thought.

"So there it is, my sales pitch," Percy spoke measuredly. "The ball's in your court now. This goes beyond any kind of borders or prejudices. Looking past those things is the best way to make sure that our world still stands at the end of this conflict. I don't give a damn about your rivalries or your grievances against those other cultures because in the end, I'm fighting to save those important to me. You should think about doing the same. Neither Surtr nor Spenta Mainyu are going to spare your children if they win the war. Humanity is as good as done for, be they demigod or otherwise. I'll put it plainly. If they win, we're fucked."

Falling back in his seat, Percy regarded the Olympians inquisitively. His eyes went from the far left of the throne row to the far right, briefly examining each god. From what he gathered, the general consensus was that of concern. While he wasn't the best at reading faces and emotions conveyed through them, Percy was sure that he could see the worry present on each visage. Even Hestia, who already knew most of what he'd just explained, seemed to be slightly perturbed by his words. In a way the faces relieved him. He was glad that he was being taken seriously, given the situation being what it was. If the gods' silence was anything to base assumption off of, Percy could expect some measure of support.

An uneasy silence hovered in the air, saturating the throne room with its odd tension. Each of the deities on their seats seemed deep in thought. Their eyes were unfocused, looking beyond what was directly before them. Percy could tell that the gears within their minds were turning. Seeing no reason to interrupt their pensive brooding, the young man relegated himself to quiet observation. His foot tapped the marble floors lightly and unhurriedly, his fingers doing the same on one of the arms of his chair. There was no impatience in his actions, instead, they relayed that he was more than willing to allow time for reflection.

"Tell me," Athena spoke, dispelling the vapid hush. "Do you truly trust in this God of Evil? Can he truly lead us to victory in this battle?"

Percy stilled his hand and foot from their movements. His gaze fell to the foot of Athena's throne as he thought about his answer. Eventually, he regarded the goddess with a wry grin. "Can he lead us to victory? Yes, I do believe he can." Percy said confidently before his eyes narrowed. "Do I trust him? No."

"You don't trust him, yet you think that he's the key to winning? I'm afraid I don't follow your logic," Demeter puzzled, her expression matching her tone.

"To add, I would like to know why you harbor distrust toward the god," Athena stated while gesturing vaguely with her hands. "If you want for us to work together, I believe understanding more about his character is crucial to avoid any… unfortunate incidents."

Zeus looked at Athena with slight incredulity, though Hera quickly slapped him on the arm and reprimanded him. "Oh stop your looks, Zeus. Athena was not promising anything, simply ensuring that we understand the God of Evil a little better. Even you must admit, what Perseus says has merit. If this Spenta Mainyu truly is the puppeteer of this play, it would make sense that his opposite brother be our best bet at cutting the strings, before dealing the final blow."

Poseidon looked at his brother and shook his head. "Yes, please refrain from making grand decisions that would affect how the entire world is shaped. If we Grecians are needed, and provide the necessary support, it would undoubtedly paint us in a positive light. On top of that, we save billions of lives, including those of our children and ourselves. There are positives all around."

"Not to mention that this war sounds like it's gonna be totally bitchin'! I haven't had a good fight in half a decade. I hope those Celtic pansies are getting ready to taste the dirt after I'm done with them!" Ares chimed, his eyes burning with passion.

"While I don't particularly want to fight, Parky Jekyllson makes a valid argument," Dionysus drawled with half-lidded eyes. "If those other pantheons lose to their respective opponents, we may as well surrender ourselves to execution right then and there. A combined force like that could overpower Olympus if, individually, they could destroy the other gods. We would be best off giving our aid at this stage rather than later."

Hephaestus nodded his head in affirmation. "Strike while the iron is hot. A good creed to take into account in this situation. Should we wait for too long, things could become cold and immalleable to our desires. The course we decide here might well dictate the outcome of this conflict."

Apollo held up his hand and began counting syllables with his fingers. "The-Greeks-save-the-day. Ev-ery-bo-dy-likes-us-now. We-are-so-awe-some."

"Now isn't the time for a haiku, dimwit," Artemis grumbled under her breath as she sent her brother a disapproving glare. Shaking her head the Goddess of the Moon then looked at her bloodthirsty half-brother. "And _you_ should learn to _think_ before jumping on board with whatever plan involves the most violence. We cannot make a decision so rashly, instead we should take the time to observe our options prior to fighting."

Ares rolled his eyes at the auburn-haired goddess. "Whatever. It doesn't seem like Surtr is waiting around though. He's acting, destroying tons of shit and slaughtering his enemies by the hundreds. Not only that, but it's working out pretty well for him so far. Why not follow his example, and use it against him and those fiery bastards. We can crush them in an epic battle alongside those Norse gods. Then we move on to the Celts, then Apophis and his dragons."

At the mention of Apophis, Percy jerked his head toward the God of War, eyes glinting with confusion and worry. "Woah, hold on. Did you say that Apophis has dragons?"

Athena gave the son of her rival an odd look. "Yes. This recently came to our attention through the Egyptian reports. Did you have no prior knowledge of the dragon group that was formed by the Egyptian God of Reptiles and Darkness?"

Percy shook his head and pursed his lips, drawing them into a thin and displeased line. "No, I had no idea. I don't know if Ahriman did either but… then again…" Biting his lower lip, Percy ran through the information in his mind. A new power had awoken in the grand scheme of things, one that he'd never imagined could arise. It certainly warranted concern. "Can you tell me more?"

"Apophis, as you may know, holds a substantial grudge against Ra," Hermes said, drawing Percy's attention. "I was the one to receive the message from the Egyptians, and from what I understand, they seem quite worried about how Apophis' actions will affect their struggle. The most dangerous dragons that we know are in the group are Níðhǫggr, the Norse dragon who eats the roots of the world tree, Aži Dahāka, the spawn of Angra Mainyu, Jörmungandr, the Norse dragon who will kill Thor, and Vritra, the Hindu dragon of unending drought and misery. There are more, however, these are perhaps the most troubling dragons that have gathered. Other than that, we know very little of their motives, movements, or hierarchy. Hell, we don't know where they are."

"Motherfucking dragons…" Percy chuckled to himself. "Well, isn't this turning into one massive shitshow? Well, there's another argument for cooperation, wouldn't you say?"

Aphrodite regarded Percy seriously, her eyes sharp and analytical. "Another reason to be cautious as well. I won't send my babies into a battle against those monstrosities. Perhaps you are adjusted to fighting enemies and abominations that are of such a caliber, however, we can't afford to let our children be slaughtered by those… _things_."

The whole council turned to stare at Aphrodite with surprise. Percy's eyebrows had shot up as he listened to the Goddess of Love's tirade. If the other reactions were anything to base judgment off of, Aphrodite rarely spoke in such a passionate and vehement manner. Letting his expression drop into a more dignified one, the son of Poseidon examined the goddess' words, realizing them to hold truth. He doubted that many demigods could fight against foes the likes of Jörmungandr. That particular dragon was intended to kill Thor, a very powerful Norse god who reveled in battle.

Yes, keeping half-bloods away from that fight would be a must.

Hades moved his attention away from the Goddess of Love and back to his nephew. "That aside, would you mind answering Athena's question? I think it would be for the best that we know what we're getting into so that we aren't betrayed. We should at least have some basis of trust, even if it is a minor amount, for the other party before we agree to forging bonds in conflict."

Percy gave a short bark of laughter and shook his head incredulously. "Trust!? Betrayal!? My gods you're all too precious. You have extensive knowledge of the latter and not an idea of what the first even means, wouldn't you agree? Gee golly, I can't even begin to fathom how ridiculous the words 'trust' and 'betray' sound coming from you guys. My mind is in shambles right now just trying to think about it!" The Hero of Olympus leaned forward in his chair and rested his head against a fist. "I don't trust him, true, but that doesn't mean I can't see the advantages of working with him. From my point of view, he has no reason to betray you or me. I could be wrong, but he's never really expressed ill-will toward any of the existing pantheons. That being said, I refuse to trust him until he starts telling the whole truth, all the time. As it is, he loves to give only half of the bigger picture. Half-truths that are never really lies, but that leave out little bits of information. Why he does this is lost on me. Maybe he's trying to portray himself as mysterious or something, but I don't care, it's just annoying. He, just like so many _gods_ , have long since forgotten that we mortals are more than just disposable pawns in a game."

The Olympians shifted on their thrones and avoided Percy's eyes as he spoke. The room grew quiet as neither party spoke. The young hero's face was set into a frown as he stared at the gods, almost daring one of them to look at him directly. Even Ares didn't glance at him. Instead the god had found something interesting with regards to the arm of his throne.

"Perseus, we're all very sorry for-" Zeus started to speak, however he was interrupted by a new voice resounding through the throne room.

"-Sorry for attempting to force him into eternal servitude to Olympus? Sorry for trying to bind him with an unbreakable vow? Sorry for spitting on all of his achievements by giving him a disgusting ultimatum, even after all he did for you all? Your hero was never enough for you _gods_. Such a man was beyond you all back then, and he's only grown into a larger hero since then, stepping closer to a destiny that holds greatness for one of his stature. He walks forward into a beautiful new dawn, passing the crumbling and decrepit relics of the old world. Yes, you should be very sorry for doing what you did to such an amazing person, one whose spirit will never be broken by even the greatest of obstacles."

Scáthach walked with her head held high and her eyes narrowed at the Olympians. Her footfalls echoed throughout the throne room as everything else went silent save the crackling of the fire in the hearth. The witch of Dún Scáith had her shoulders squared with her body language dripping defiance and stalwart stoicism. The fire cast a glow over her as she walked toward the son of Poseidon's position.

Percy stood up and moved to intercept her. "I didn't get around to mentioning that you were here with me," the young man hissed when they were near one another. His eyes nervously flickered back to the gods on their thrones, and he noted that each had gone slightly rigid where they sat.

The witch gave an exasperated sigh and shrugged helplessly. "I figured now would be the best time then. You told them everything else, so they know that I'm not their enemy in this situation, unless they wish to make me one. That being said, you could use some support, even though it appears you've handled most of it yourself."

"You shouldn't have just barged in," Percy reprimanded as he placed a concerned hand on her shoulder. "If they had attacked as soon as they saw you…"

"It wouldn't have mattered. They wouldn't risk large-scale attacks in this room. Whatever they threw at me I could have avoided, and I had every confidence you could do some damage control should it come to that. Your negotiation skills have vastly improved apparently," Scáthach replied blithely, a small smile stretching her features.

Zeus' voice interrupted the duo before they could speak further. "And _why_ , is she _here_?"

Percy and Scáthach turned to look at the Olympians, who were now staring at the two guardedly. The young man clicked his tongue in annoyance and shot his magenta-haired friend a quick scowl. "She wanted to come, just to make sure that you didn't try anything funny with me again, I'm sure. After all, the last time I was in the throne room things didn't play out so well, remember?" Percy asked as he shot the gods a dirty look, passing the ball back into their court. He'd chosen his words carefully, hoping to elicit a response that could give him control of the conversation once more. The gods didn't disappoint.

One by one they allowed their gazes to shift from slightly cautious to downcast and guilty. Internally, Percy let out a sigh of relief that he'd managed to salvage the situation. If Scáthach's words had angered the gods, no doubt he might have had a more difficult time convincing them to assist in the war. As it stood, there seemed to be a bit of a schism in interest. Some had agreed with Percy already, while some others had been more careful in their approach.

"Moving on," Percy said, garnering attention to himself once more. Looking toward Athena, the young man arched his eyebrow. "Did I answer your question?"

The goddess nodded her head slowly. "Yes, I do believe that your answer was more than adequate. What you say makes sense, and I can see why you would be cautious around such an individual. I feel that if we were to align ourselves with your cause, then we too, should be wary of the God of Evil."

Percy inclined his head subtly to the Goddess of Wisdom, before turning to face Zeus. "There you have it. What's your decision then? I feel that if we aren't going to be working together, there'd be no point in pussyfooting around here anymore. No doubt, me and Scáthach are gonna be needed soon enough. I'd rather give Ahriman the good news instead of keeping him hanging."

Zeus looked down at his nephew, face set and stoic. He moved his head to the side and regarded the goddess' side first. There were a few nods, a few shakes of the head, and some simple shrugs. He looked to the other side, where he was met with several nods, and only a few uncommitted gestures. The King of the Sky grunted as turned back to face Percy, who appeared expectant.

"It would seem…" Zeus began, stroking his beard while he spoke. "That the general consensus is in favor of aiding the other pantheons right now. As such, that is what we shall do. Let it be known then, that this is a formal declaration of _war_ , against the enemies of our allies. Hermes, go inform the Norse that we are preparing to send more aid for their battle against Surtr. We still need time to prepare, and while we Olympians cannot go en masse, however, we will provide more than what has been sent thus far."

The messenger god nodded and disappeared in a brilliant flash of light. Zeus turned to face Poseidon. "The workshops in your kingdom should focus on a full-scale war economy. Consumer goods will have to fall by the wayside for the time being while your forges work on more automatons for the war effort. Prepare to enlist more Merpeople for the cause as well."

The God of the Sea sighed heavily and nodded his head. "The people of Atlantis might not like it, but your words have weight to them. Hopefully they'll realize what needs to be done isn't always what is easy. Unfortunately, while my citizens can fight on land and in sea, the conditions of Muspelheim are simply too extreme. They would not fare well in that environment."

"Of course, that is understandable," Zeus replied. "We will discuss more of the logistics soon. For now, I wish to rest and contemplate what comes next for all of us." The God of the Sky gave Percy a pointed stare. "Ensure that your benefactor speaks to us regarding what needs to be done in order to stop Spenta Mainyu. We will not be subservient to him, however we will take his council into consideration. I know that you will not be fighting with us, but rather with him, therefore I only ask that your group keeps open communication with us, for the sake of cooperation if nothing else."

Percy nodded in assent. "Yeah, I agree completely. I'm glad that you decided to help. This might have been a slog if you weren't willing to take up at least one front."

A short lull fell over the room, causing Percy to quirk an eyebrow. "You can go now. No point in talking to you anymore," he said dismissively as he made a gesture with his hand.

The gods looked between one another, unsure of whether to follow his word or to wait for Zeus. Eventually, the King of Olympus made the decision and vanished from the throne room in a heavy crack of thunder. The other Olympians followed suit, leaving the room in their own signature forms of teleportation. Eventually, only four remained in the Olympian council room. Poseidon still sat in his throne, as did Hestia, while Percy and Scáthach waited by the hearth.

The sea god moved first, stepping off his throne and shrinking so that he was now only slightly taller than his son. Poseidon took Percy by the shoulder and lead him a few steps away from Scáthach. The witch rolled her eyes and took a seat where Percy had been previously. Eyeing the familial duo critically, Scáthach was drawn from her observations by Hestia's voice.

"What is Percy to you?" The goddess asked suddenly, having moved from her own throne so that she could speak to the woman. Her eyes roamed over where Percy and Poseidon were having their own hushed conversation.

The witch hesitated for only a moment. "He's a friend. A student. A new beginning. He's all of these things, and he's so much more too. But when I look at him, I also see the end."

Hestia gazed curiously at Scáthach. "A vague and unfocused answer had I ever heard one," she responded dryly. "Yet I can tell that you yourself have trouble comprehending exactly what you're trying to express. Beyond all of that though, tell me, do you love him?"

Scáthach's eyes widened for a moment as her head shot toward the Goddess of the Hearth. Her eyes returning to their typical size, the witch of Dún Scáith regarded the goddess in front of her with care. She took the moment to gather her thoughts and reflect on the question asked of her. With a clear mind, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to rummage through her brain for the answer. It took some time, in which Scáthach managed to pick up on some of what Percy was saying to Poseidon. She heard the words _return, vast,_ and _unknown_ before they began to speak in lower tones that were no longer discernable. Finally, her eyes opened once more when her mind had been sorted.

"Love him?" Scáthach inquired softly, a slow smile creeping up onto her face. "I think so. I love him for what he is. Whether he be my friend, my student, my lover, or a new beginning. Yes, I can say tentatively. He's something akin to a light, I suppose. One that casts its glow upon everything in reach. A light that demands to be seen, felt, enjoyed, and embraced. When I think more about it… well… it doesn't matter I suppose. You have my answer, now tell me why you decided to ask."

Hestia delicately laughed into her hand. "Why? Is it so odd for me to want to understand those around my nephew? He's one of my favorite people to be around and I can't help but draw the same conclusions as you have. He's most certainly similar to a light in this occasionally dreary world. A beacon that draws in all who witness it. Yet, some people fear the light when it shines too brightly. They turn away from it and re-embrace the gloom that they are so accustomed to. Those people… I pity them for it… yet at the same time, I feel gladdened that I do not have to share the light that I bask in. Selfish, I know… yet I feel like I'm entitled to be selfish after all this time. Even if it's only for one thing."

Scáthach stared oddly at the goddess for a few seconds. "He does shine too brightly for some people, doesn't he?"

Hestia nodded with a sigh. "Yes. It's a shame that not everybody can see the salvation right in front of them. I hope that you aren't one of those people, Scáthach of Dún Scáith."

"You don't know me, Goddess of the Hearth. Don't ridicule me by claiming that you do."

"Apologies then. I meant no disrespect. It was just something that I wanted to mention, though, perhaps it _was_ a bit too forward. I hope you know, however, that even the brightest of lights can be extinguished in this cruel world."

"Not him," Scáthach replied vehemently, her fists clenched on the arms of her chair. "Like all heroes, he will never truly be extinguished. His light will last, perhaps for an eternity."

Hestia shook her head slowly. "Only if there are those willing to keep it alive. But, I think we've spoken enough about this subject. It would appear that Percy and my brother are saying their goodbyes."

Scáthach glanced over and indeed saw the Percy and Poseidon were shaking hands and smiling at one another. After a few parting words, the sea god disappeared in a mist, leaving only three in the room. Percy walked back toward Scáthach and Hestia, giving both women a nod.

"Thanks for waiting, Aunt Hestia," the young man said, his lips upturned to form a soft smile. "I think we're good to go back down."

Hestia nodded. "Very well. Back to camp then?"

Percy shook his head and chuckled sheepishly. "Actually, I was hoping you could take me to my where my mom and Paul are living. Dad said that they'd gotten a new apartment and that I should definitely visit."

The goddess gave Percy a warm smile. "I'm glad you're thinking about family, even in these dire times. It's very heartening to see. Of course I'll take you two there."

With nothing further to say, the three left Olympus in simultaneous columns of fire.

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 **A/N: Yay for dialogue and further plot development. As I said in the beginning A/N, I have projects and final exams coming in the next few weeks, meaning I might upload either a slightly smaller chapter, or I might take a month or so to update. Thanks for bearing with me.**


	14. It Grips the Heart

**A/N: This chapter came out a lot sooner than I expected it too. This has been one that's been practically written from the beginning of the story though, so I guess that explains it.**

 ** _Reviews:_**

 **Death Fury- Thanks!**

 **Kindred Scarlet- Thank you for the support. I try not to leave an extensive amount of cliff-hangers for the audience.**

 **Guest- Thanks for the review and kind words!**

 **MasterTrident13-** **I'm glad you like the way Percy is panning out here. Nuanced but impactful character development was something I wanted to dip my fingers into for a while now. It's taken some time to see the results of what our hero has been through, but we stand here nonetheless. Thanks for your feedback and support!**

 **Shigure Toshiro- Thanks for your kind words!**

 **divineboss2000- Haha, thanks for the kind words and the support! It does feel good to be told that my writing is well done, so thanks for the feedback.**

 **Brotaco- I'm glad that you enjoyed the story. Thank you for bringing to my attention the mistake I made with plate mail. When I was making Mordred, I had a picture of mail armor, supplemented by steel plate. It was later that I decided to use full plate armor, but I had mixed things up in my mind. Anyway, thanks for pointing that out to me. Regarding the scale of Mordred's armor, while I was intending a bit of intimidation, I didn't really picture hulking. When I look at pictures of full plate armor I don't really think hulking, just... metal fluff. Going with spaulders was just me deciding not to use a larger set of armor. From what I understand, while pauldrons do give better protection to the armpits, spaulders still provide good protection from slashing and thrusting from a sword. Lastly, while I know that the Silk Road never physically extended into Japan, the influences that were brought from different cultures to the Far East can't be overlooked, even from places like Greece and Persia in times of antiquity. I recall doing quite a bit of research regarding the topic of trade influence from the hyperpower that was the Achaemenid Empire to Alexander the Great and his "Macedonian Empire" for a history course I took last year. There was already a hyperlane of trade in the form of the Royal Road in the Achaemenid time. Once Alexander started to take over the old Persian empire, the Greek legacy took hold even in parts of today's China. There was a lot of Hellenistic influence that made it's way east because of Macedonia, which, through China, would eventually spread to Japan as well. After all, China and Japan shared quite a few cultural similarities, with China exporting Buddhism and Confucianism into Japan. Anyway, history aside, what I wanted to say was that while the Silk Road never physically made it into Japan, Chinese envoys did bring new ideas into the country, which were ultimately taken from Greek influences.**

 **justafan- I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! Hestia does seem to be scoping out Scathach doesn't she? Good eye. I hope that the reunion was fluffy enough for you, because I'm feeling like a teddy bear after writing it.**

 **Trigger-Happy Texan- Good to hear from you again! I'm glad you're still enjoying the story, too bad about the wi-fi though. I honestly don't know what I'd do without it for months. Funny you should mention heads being ripped off, since I mention it this chapter, though not in the way you were hoping. Thanks for the feedback!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not make any money off this work of fanfiction. All rights for the characters in Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus go to Rick Riordan and all who were involved in the creation of the novels.**

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14\. It Grips the Heart

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Percy, Scáthach, and Hestia exited the shadowed alleyway that they had appeared in. Looking around with a raised eyebrow, Percy stared at the numerous bodies that pressed against one another as they pushed and shoved on the sidewalk. His eyes scanned the mass of people, not particularly searching for anything. He allowed his mind to wander back to when he still lived in New York, recalling with a dry chuckle that foot-traffic was still as bad as vehicle traffic.

Then again, he hadn't expected much to have drastically changed in a span of five years. Improving the city's infrastructure in such a significant way would have been a long process. Long, and expensive to boot. Certainly five years would never have been enough time to solve the problem that had been building for the past several decades.

With a sigh, Percy turned back to see both of his companions were looking doubtfully at the undulating wave of human bodies that wandered the area. Percy noticed the noise was also incredibly distracting. Even the busy streets of Olympus hadn't been nearly as bad. Then again, the godly city had no cars or forms of automotive transport. It only made sense then, that the noise pollution would be drastically lessened.

Currently, the trio were in the neighborhood of Murray Hill. Apparently, Percy's mother and Paul had moved to a nicer part of town once Sally's career as a novelist took off. Her first book had sold fairly well, especially considering it was self-published and marketed conservatively. Paul had also moved up in life, having been made the Vice-Principal for Goode High School, earning him an increase in salary.

Truthfully, Percy was glad that his biological father was sensical enough to check in on his mother from time to time. While Poseidon had admitted that it was strange to be in the same room as Paul, he'd also claimed to have made an effort to watch out for Sally and her new family. As such, the God of the Sea had gotten a bit of insight into the lives of Paul and Sally, which had been improving little by little.

"Hestia, do you know exactly where my Mom lives?" Percy asked looking up and down the street that they were on. He'd rarely visited Murray Hill just for sightseeing when he was younger. As such, he didn't have a lot of knowledge of the area. "You said you checked up on her over the past few years."

"She lives just a block ahead of this location. It shouldn't take long to reach on foot," the goddess explained as she pointed directly in front of herself.

Nodding, the former demigod couldn't fight the smile that crossed his face when he thought about his mother. It had been too long since he'd last talked to her, let alone seen her face or eaten her food. He missed it if he were honest with himself. Nothing that Ahriman conjured or summoned could stack up against his mother's cooking. Especially when it came to blue food. Nothing else would suffice, save the real, original thing. In his excitement, the young man grabbed Scáthach and Hestia by the hand and led them forward with palpable energy.

Both the goddess and the witch were visibly startled when they felt Percy haul them along with him, however, they quickly stopped any resistance and allowed themselves to go with him. Hestia chuckled to herself as she briefly caught a glimpse of the smile on Percy's face, while Scáthach gave a soft smile of her own. The trio moved through the crowd with Percy at the fore, pushing and weaving through the wave of bodies that swarmed them from seemingly all directions.

Percy breathed deeply as the smells of gasoline, greasy food, and hygiene products slammed into him. It was something that he was sure never to forget. His senses were practically being assaulted on all fronts. The honking of cars and the din of chatter, the feel of people bumping shoulders, the taste of the pungent air. Everything brought him back to the times of his youth when things seemed so uncomplicated.

"It's right up ahead, those condominiums over there," Hestia said loudly so that Percy could hear her over the city din.

"Wow, those are pretty neat looking," Percy said as he followed where Hestia's eyes had gone. The outside of the condominium complex was well-maintained, showing that those who lived in the residences respected their homes. The complex was taller than it was wide, stretching nearly fifteen stories into the sky. While it wasn't the tallest building in the area, it certainly looked modern with its light color palette and fancy outdoor lighting fixtures. Percy whistled lowly in appreciated of the building, feeling relief well up within him at the knowledge that his mother had moved up in life. She deserved all the happiness that she could find in his mind.

"Shall we go inform your mother that you're here?" Hestia asked while walking toward the complex.

Percy shook himself from his stupor and moved to follow after the goddess, having released both her and Scáthach from his previous grasp. Near the front door to the complex was an intercom with the numbers for the different residences listed upon it. Hestia looked at the list for a while, before she snapped her fingers and muttered a small _aha_ , under her breath.

Pressing one of the buttons, the three waited for a response to come. It took several seconds, however, a voice that was instantly recognizable to Percy came on the line.

"Hello?"

Hestia smiled at the intercom, even though nobody could see her. "Hello, Sally, it's Hestia. I do hope now isn't a bad time…"

"No! No, not at all Lady Hestia. Would you like to come in?" Sally asked over the intercom, her voice sounding somewhat hopeful. "I mean, of course, you can come whenever you like… er… I'm sorry to ask but… would you happen to have any information regarding-"

"-Percy? Yes, actually I do." Hestia replied gently, giving the son of Poseidon a sly wink as she spoke. "It's quite important as it turns out, and I would like to discuss it with you immediately. I know how much he means to you."

"You know something? Please, please come in! I'll just unlock the door for you… or you can teleport… or you can do whatever you want…" Sally's tone had become flustered as she began to ramble on.

Hestia giggled to herself and shook her head softly. "The door is fine, thank you very much."

Percy smiled to himself as he heard his mother's enthusiasm. There was a soft click, signifying that the door had been unlocked for them. Without hesitation, Percy pushed it open and waited for Hestia and Scáthach to move through. Soon, the three were walking up several flights of stairs to the sixth floor. Their feet echoed in the stairway as they continued to move upward, both women having pointed out that there was an easily accessible elevator that could have worked as means of transportation.

Percy laughed sheepishly while scratching his cheek awkwardly. "Sorry, I just have this feeling in my stomach that made me want to burn off some of the excess energy. The first thing I saw was the staircase, so I decided to use this as a way to do so." The young man said ruefully. "Besides, a little exercise never hurt anybody, right?"

Eventually, the trio reached the sixth floor and began to search for the number of Sally and Paul's condo.

"615, it should be just a little further down the hallway," Scáthach observed as she counted the numbers in her mind. Percy nodded and moved down the carpeted hall, taking his time to look at the clean walls and the bright lights along the way. Not for the first time did he find relief in knowing that his mother was living in a nice area.

A few steps later found Percy, Hestia, and Scáthach staring at the door marked 615. The son of Poseidon was visibly buzzing, though neither woman could tell if it was pure excitement or a mixture of different emotions. His face was slightly anxious, given that he was chewing his bottom lip, though his eyes seemed alight with giddiness. Both the goddess and the witch let themselves smile softly while watching the young man tap his hand against the wooden door. A few seconds later, the door swung open and the three were met with the worried face of Sally Jackson.

Almost immediately, her face dropped from concerned and became utterly astounded as she stared at her son after five years of separation. Percy looked at his mother with a large, lopsided smile that bordered on shaky. Both mother and son became painfully aware of how their eyes burned slightly and of the knot that built in their throats at the sight of one another. Sally moved forward tentatively, her arms coming up slowly. Percy took a step forward and allowed himself to fall into his mother's embrace, which betrayed her shaking body. Swallowing thickly, Percy buried his face into the top of his mother's head, his jaw clenching as he screwed his eyes shut. His breathing grew slightly staggered while he fought the sobs that almost made their way through his defenses.

Sally, on the other hand, could do nothing to stop herself from crying openly into her son's shoulder. Her chest felt tight, yet at the same time, it was as if a massive stone had been cleared off of her body. Her legs threatened to fail her, and she took a moment to reaffirm her hold on the body of her only son. Sally didn't deny her emotions as they came and crashed over her, sweeping her away in massive relief. Tears dripped down her chin and soaked the shirt that Percy was wearing. Small hiccups broke through her lips as she tightened her grip. Her sniffles came in more frequent bursts as she felt a small laugh escape. Sally wasn't sure if what she was feeling could be classified as euphoria, but she was sure it was the closest she would probably ever come. In that moment, nothing mattered more that holding him as close to her heart as she could. If it had been up to her, she would never have let him go, however, she felt Percy loosen his embrace signifying that he was ready to talk.

Reluctantly, Sally let go of her son. She brought a hand up to wipe away both the tears and slight dribble from her nose. She shook her head slightly to clear her fuzzy thoughts. Eventually, she recalled that there were two more people that were right behind Percy. The woman suddenly felt herself grow self-conscious over her loss of composure. Quickly smoothing over her hair, Sally cleared her throat with a small cough.

"S-Sorry for making you all stand out here in the hallway," the woman said. "Come in, please, come in. I can tell there's going to be a lot of talking being done." Sally gestured for the three to enter, which they did with grateful nods. None looked particularly awkward given what had just transpired, which she was thankful for.

Percy moved slowly as he wiped away the tears that had escaped his eyes while hugging his mother. He looked around the condo, taking in the modest furnishings. He noted that nothing looked ostentatious or obnoxiously pompous within the room. The floor was made of dark hardwood, which complimented the darker tones of some of the furniture in the living room. A television sat in the corner of the room on a stand with quite a few movies placed underneath it. Percy, Hestia, and Scáthach were motioned to sit where they pleased.

The goddess and the witch each took a seat on the leather couch, while Percy decided to sit in a reclining theater chair near the windows. Looking out the glass, the son of Poseidon could clearly see the street below him, where people still moved like a river. Across from the condo complex was another large apartment building, though the street separating the two was wide enough so that he couldn't see through the windows of the other complex.

"Would you like something to drink?" Sally asked suddenly, gaining the attention of everybody in the room. "We have soda, water, wine… oh, Paul's not home from work yet. He'll be back in a few hours though. I'm sure he'd like to see you again too, Percy."

The young man nodded his head and deferred choice of drinks to his companions first. Hestia asked for water, while Scáthach predictably asked if there was any orange juice, to which Sally responded positively. Percy also just asked for water, deciding not to question if there was any harder alcohol in the house. Sally nodded to each and left the room to get their drinks.

Scáthach took the opportunity to lean forward slightly in order to speak more quietly. "What are you going to tell her, Young Hero?"

Percy glanced out the window for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and looking back at his mentor. "I guess the truth? Is that so bad? No offense to my Mom, but she can't keep me from fighting again. I know that she would want to, but she doesn't have the say in that regard. I'm doing this to protect her, so there would be no reason not to just come out and tell her basically everything."

"Basically everything…" Hestia repeated with a nod. "I agree with you, Percy. Trust between family members is essential for the dynamic of the household. As your mother, Sally would probably be able to tell that you are keeping some things to yourself. That being said, I'm sure she would understand that you can't tell her everything. Just avoid making a habit of keeping secrets from those closest to you."

"I was never condemning his choice in what to tell her. In fact, I also support him telling her most of what happened and what is coming next," Scáthach retorted defensively, crossing her legs. "It was a simple question, not an accusation in any sense of word or implication."

Hestia gave the magenta-haired woman an amused look. "I don't recall saying anything of the sort regarding your choice of words. I was only confirming my own beliefs with regards to the situation. I had hoped that you would grow to think better of me than to undermine your position with my nephew in such a manner. Perhaps it was wrong of me to do so."

Scáthach regarded the goddess pointedly. "Considering that we've known one another for less than a full day, I don't see why that thought would cross your mind. Can you really say to me that I should adopt the policy of 'innocent until proven guilty' with any sort of god? Even if I did, it would take more than one goddess to convince me. Especially after what I've seen in my lifetime."

"Is now really the time to argue?" Percy sighed. Running a hand over his face, the son of Poseidon shook his head and looked between the goddess and his mentor. "Once this is said and done you can discuss issues between yourselves, but for now, it's not even close to being appropriate."

Both Scáthach and Hestia looked properly chastised at hearing Percy's reprimands. They glanced at one another and nodded. Taking it as a sign of victory, Percy smiled at the two. "Thank you."

Sally returned after a few moments of silence, giving everybody their drink of choice and muttering something about 'one last thing'. She left once more while the trio sipped at their beverages.

"So…" Scáthach started. "What did you and your father discuss before we left?"

Percy quirked an eyebrow at the blatant prying nature of his mentor. Turning to face Hestia, he noted that his aunt also seemed interested in the answer. Giving both women a dry look, Percy decided to humor them.

"We talked about my demigod nature," Percy replied in a hushed tone. "Apparently, there's still some semblance of divinity within me. It's just… well, he described it as being almost trapped or recessive. He can barely feel it… almost like it's calling out to those who listen close enough… or rather those who are attuned to the sea in some way. I don't know what he meant exactly, just that there might be a way to reclaim my status as a half-blood, partial domain control and all."

Both Hestia and Scáthach looked quite surprised at learning that Percy still had a bit of divinity in him. Both had been under the assumption that he was completely mortal.

"And… how would you go about reclaiming your birthright?" Scáthach asked curiously.

Percy sighed and shook his head with slight despondency. "He isn't very sure. He said that there might be a way to give it a kickstart by using a vast amount of divine energy, but it would have to be essentially of the same _flavor_. It's odd, considering that I have no dyslexia, or ADHD, or really anything that still signifies my status as a half-blood. I'm not sure what happened, or what Ahriman did exactly, but something tells me this is another one of his many plans. I'll have to ask for answers later, for now though, I should think of divine energy with the same flavor as mine."

Hestia thought the wording over and nodded her head in understanding. "I see. A vast amount of energy that is directly tied to the sea, water, and the likes, correct?"

"That's basically it," Percy admitted. "Only problem is that Dad is pretty sure that he doesn't have the power to do so. That being said, he wanted to research if there were alternative rituals or whatever, so, for now, we'll just have to sit and wait. Oh, and he gave this back to me." The young man reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen.

Smiling at her nephew, the Goddess of the Hearth made a content hum. "Anaklusmos is back with its rightful owner. I'm glad then, that the symbol of a great hero has been restored."

Percy twirled the pen in his fingers for a few seconds, eyeing his old sword intensely. Finally, he stopped and put Riptide away, back into his pocket. "I didn't know it was repaired, and truthfully I wasn't even thinking about getting it back. Holding it now, though, it just feels right." The young man shrugged softly, more to himself than anyone else. "I don't really know how to use two swords at once though, at least, not well enough to do it in a real fight."

"Can we talk about how Angra Mainyu has lied to you for the past five years and that you seem to be fine with that?" Scáthach interceded for Percy, her face forming a frown. "You were supposed to be fully human, cursed through his power so that you could use what he gave you to its fullest extent. I don't understand how he could keep your divinity hidden for all these years. How is it even possible to cause it to… hibernate or whatever happened?"

Percy leaned back in his chair while crossing his arms. "Dad isn't sure of how it works at all either. I'll be sure to mention it to Ahriman next time we talk, though I doubt he'll give me a straight answer. I had some time to think about the situation, which leads me to think that Ahriman needed for my divinity not to get in the way of whatever curse he wanted to give me. Unfortunately for him, now that I know about this, he'll find me a bit less inclined to give him any form of trust." Percy shrugged casually as he closed his eyes momentarily. "Not like I would have given him much to start."

The sound of footsteps drew the attention of the three guests. They looked over to see that Sally was returning, this time though, she had company following closely behind her. Holding onto Sally's hand was a little girl with dark brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. She looked no more than seven years old, which quickly clued Percy into who the little girl was. Then again, he was fairly certain that his mother wouldn't introduce him to a random girl living in the condo.

"Percy, and… uh… everybody else… this is Tamara Blofis-Jackson, she's five years old," Sally said, introducing the girl to everybody else in the room. She then turned to the little girl and bent down, gesturing for her to step forward. "Go ahead, dear."

Tamara looked nervously from her mother to the other people in the room. When her eyes landed on Percy though, she bit her lip and moved toward him slightly. "Are… are you my brother?" She asked timidly, shuffling awkwardly when she saw Percy's raised eyebrows.

Slowly, Percy felt a smile tug at his face upon seeing the girl glance from him to the floor multiple times. He moved from his position on the chair and crouched down beside his half-sister. "Yeah, I'm Percy. It's nice to meet you, Tamara." His voice expressed the warmth that he was feeling when the girl seemed to light up at his declaration. "Can I hug you, Tamara?" He asked, not wanting to get ahead of himself and place his sister in a very uncomfortable situation.

When she nodded her head quickly, his smile turned into a full-blown grin as he scooped up Tamara in his arms. The little girl giggled when she felt herself getting spun around while her brother's arms held her securely in their grasp. After a few spins, Percy set his sister down and pat her head a few times. "I didn't really know what to expect, but you really are adorable, aren't you? How did you know I was your brother?"

Tamara looked at her mother. Sally shrugged, her smile having grown at seeing both of her children interacting so well together. "You can tell him if you want."

Percy glanced at his sister and mother, until Tamara spoke, garnering his full attention. "Mom showed me some pictures of you and her… and she told me about you being a… a… half-blood… which means you're half human and half superhero! She told me stories of you fighting monsters and bad guys to save your friends. You're really cool." The girl finished with a large smile as she stared at Percy with big eyes.

For his part, the son of Poseidon scratched the back of his neck, a trace of embarrassment seeping through into his tone. "Oh, er, I guess I am pretty cool. Thanks, Tamara. I should probably introduce you to the other two women with me. The one with brown hair is Hestia," Percy pointed out.

"Her eyes are on fire," Tamara noted with idle curiosity. "That's not healthy, right Mom?"

Sally laughed lightly and pulled her daughter close. "Normally that's right. But Hestia isn't a normal person. She's a goddess, like the one from the stories I told you with Percy in them."

The little girl's eyes widened as she stared at Hestia's smiling visage.

Percy took the moment to tap his sister's shoulder. "She's really nice, even though she is a goddess. She has special connections to family, and she can be real funny when she wants to. The woman with the red eyes is Scáthach. She's my teacher and a very good friend of mine." The young man said as he redirected Tamara's attention to the witch of Dún Scáith.

Out of the corner of his eye, Percy saw his mother jerk at hearing the name. He looked over to her and gave her the most placating expression that he could muster. While still tense, she didn't say or do anything against the magenta-haired woman, which Percy appreciated. He was sure that she'd heard of what had happened from Poseidon and probably even Annabeth. He could understand that she would feel on edge given the situation.

"You're eyes are really pretty. So is your hair!" Tamara said as she examined the amused witch. "Are you a princess? Because you look like a princess."

Scáthach laughed out loud at the girl's inquiries. "No, I'm no princess. I'm a warrior, a lot like your brother is. I did, however, own a castle once."

"So cool!" Tamara said exuberantly, jumping up and down a bit in place. "Can I be a warrior like you too? Can I own a castle?"

Sally stood up and shook her head. "I won't allow you to become a warrior. I already have to deal with your brother being a fighter, so I won't let you do the same. One child is enough. One is _too_ much, actually."

Tamara looked at her mother with sad eyes. "But-!"

"No buts! Young lady, you are forbidden from becoming a fighter like your brother and that's final. It's okay to pretend to be one, but you are going to finish college and get a good job when you grow up!" Sally declared with exasperation lacing her tone.

Percy smiled when he saw his younger sister pout a little. He gave her a hug from behind before whispering conspiratorially to her. "It's not as great as you might think. Trust me, I would really like to live a normal life, but for now, I still have to fight so that I can protect those I care about. People like Mom, Paul, and you!"

Tamara giggled as she removed herself from the hug. "You'll protect me too?"

"Why wouldn't I?" The son of Poseidon questioned. "You're my little sister aren't you? It's my job to protect you to the best of my ability from anything that could hurt you. So don't worry, your big brother will take care of you and keep you guys safe. I promise that much." Percy kissed his sister's forehead lightly.

While his sister wrapped her arms around his neck, Percy noticed that his mother seemed worried at his words. "Hey Mom, when's Paul supposed to be home again?"

Sally looked at the clock. "He usually comes home at around six, though sometimes it's a bit later than that."

Percy nodded his head and pat Tamara's head while escaping her hug. "We should relax then for the next couple of hours. We can discuss the… situation… once Paul comes home. That gives us some time to reallocate and for me to get to know my baby sister a little bit better." He smiled in the girl's direction.

"That sounds like a good idea," Sally replied with a nod. "We could all have dinner together! How does that sound? Will you two be joining us?" She asked, regarding both Hestia and Scáthach curiously.

Scáthach nodded her head. "I'll be grateful to take your offer if your son accepts, thank you. For the time being Percy and myself find ourselves stuck together, so leaving him and going off on my own would prove to be quite dull."

Sally gave Scáthach a slight nod of acknowledgment before turning to face Hestia. The goddess looked contemplative for some time, holding her chin with one hand. "I suppose I'm not needed immediately, and truthfully I don't have anything else to do. That being the case, I'd gladly accept your generosity, thank you," Hestia smiled warmly.

Percy grinned at his mother and ruffled Tamara's hair with one hand. "Of course I'll be staying for dinner with you guys. For now though, since we have some time to spare, why don't we watch a movie or talk until Paul gets home?" Percy picked Tamara up and sat back down in his seat, with his little sister in his lap.

Sally nodded and went to sit in a recliner near Percy's. Once comfortable, she looked at Scáthach intently. "Would you mind telling me a bit more about yourself, Miss Scáthach. I'm afraid all I have are… less than pleasant… impressions of you. I'm sure, though, that if my son trusts you, then so can I."

"It would be rude not to tell you more about myself, true," Scáthach said, tapping a finger to her lips. "I suppose I should start from my time growing up in Scotland. You see, the world was quite different two-thousand years ago…"

While Scáthach began her story, Percy allowed himself to stare out the window. He knew the story would take some time, even though the witch had never outright told him her own past in such a straightforward manner. Rather it had taken a long time until Percy knew most of her history. Even then, he still didn't know everything there was to know about his mentor. Narrowing his eyes, the son of Poseidon continued to stare out the window, lost in his own thoughts and observations.

* * *

Paul Blofis was having a good day.

There had been no fights at Goode High School, and only a couple of students had been sent to his office for behavioral problems. Both students were fairly apologetic, having admitted that they were just having a bad day due to home problems, which made sense since they were siblings just a year apart. True enough, neither of them were regular troublemakers, so Paul had just let them off with light reprimands and an understanding pat on the shoulder.

Apart from that, nothing interesting had happened. As such, he'd been able to get a good amount of planning for the upcoming school events such as Prom and graduation done. After school had ended, Paul had gone to buy a few groceries that his wife had asked for earlier that day. Thankfully, traffic hadn't been terrible, and the market was having a sale on a few of the items on his list.

' _Yeah, today's been a pretty darn good day. As long as I don't drop the eggs it will be basically perfect.'_ Paul thought to himself with a small nod. He exited the elevator hefting his grocery bags as he fished for the house key in his pocket. ' _Maybe after Tamara goes to bed Sally and I can have some quality time to ourselves. Yup, that would definitely make this day the best in a while.'_

Paul whistled a jaunty tune he'd learned in college while unlocking the front door. He stepped inside and closed the door with his foot. "Sally, Tamara, I'm home!" He called out, slipping off his shoes while still holding his bags.

"In the living room, Paul!" Sally called back, her voice sounding excited and just a bit mischievous.

With a hum, Paul moved until he caught a glimpse of five people sitting in the living room. His face grew confused when he saw his daughter sitting on the lap of somebody who looked oddly like his missing stepson. When Paul caught a better look at the stranger's face, he stumbled over his own two feet. With a less than dignified yelp, the man tumbled to the ground with a loud thump.

"Paul/Daddy!" Sally and Tamara cried out at the same time upon seeing his ungraceful fall. His wife and daughter rushed to his side, only for them to breathe a sigh of relief upon seeing that he was fine. Sitting up, Paul rubbed his elbow with a small wince, before turning back to regard the collective faces that were watching him.

A woman with burgundy hair and vivid red eyes stared at him with a raised eyebrow. Another woman with oddly orange eyes and brown hair was looking at him with a slightly worried expression. It was, however, the last face that had given him a start. Sea-green eyes, black hair with hints of grey strands, a slightly narrow face with a strong jawline, and a crooked smile that bordered on mocking even after the tumble.

"Smooth entrance, Paul. Ten out of ten."

Sarcasm, crooked smile, eyes like a green ocean, dark hair that hinted at a great struggle, the face of a man nearly the definition of god-like. Yes, there was hardly any doubt about who sat in front of him.

"Percy!" Paul exclaimed, finally having spoken after his mind had been racing with information. He stood up quickly, his face having gone from absolute shock into an easy grin.

"That's my name. Bring it in, Paul," Percy replied with his own grin, standing from his seat. Both men gave each other a one-armed hug while Percy gave his stepfather a hearty pat on the back. "It's been a while. I'm glad to see that you're doing well for yourself with your new job and all."

Paul nodded and looked at the young man up and down. "You seem to be doing fine too. It's good to see you again!"

Percy's eyes moved from Paul to the space behind him. With a raised eyebrow, the son of Poseidon looked back at Paul, traces of amusement creeping onto his face. "So, what's leaking?"

Turning around, Paul's face dropped when he saw the bag full of groceries flattened from when he landed on them. A clear liquid with traces of yellow seeped from the opening of the bag. "That… would be the eggs…"

* * *

Dinner had been a pleasant enough affair for Percy. After Paul had come home and promptly taken a spill, crushing the eggs he'd bought, Sally had announced that the food would be served soon. Percy and Paul had spoken a bit more before they had been called to the table, along with Scáthach and Tamara. Hestia apparently felt bad for Sally doing all of the cooking, and as such she'd gone and helped the woman in her endeavors.

The food was nothing short of delicious. Percy had felt an odd wave of nostalgia hit him as soon as the first bite of pasta had hit his tongue. There was something that he couldn't quite explain affecting his perception. It was as if he was actually eating for the first time in months. As if his tongue finally decided to work properly, opening up a world of new flavors that were previously foreign to him. Percy, in that moment, had never felt more fulfilled since he could recall. The atmosphere in the condominium was light, with small bouts of laughter occasionally gracing the dinner table under the mellow lights. Percy would often catch his mother staring at him, almost as if she were afraid to let him out of her sight. It was not lost on him why that was.

Once dinner had ended, the group had moved back into the living room to get comfortable. Percy once more took the seat by the window, though with six people there weren't' enough places to sit for everybody. Thus, Scáthach and Hestia had insisted that Sally and Paul take the couch, while they sat elsewhere. The goddess had moved to the other recliner, while Scáthach decided to sit on the floor next to Percy's chair. Tamara was placed on the couch in between her mother and father.

It was then that Percy went through his story for the third time in twenty-four hours. He wasn't sure how to speak since Tamara was still in the room, however, neither Sally nor Paul seemed to have any inclination to force her out. In the end, Percy simply let the words flow as best he could without describing anything graphic or potentially traumatizing.

Of course, his sister had plenty of questions regarding almost everything that he discussed. That being said, Percy didn't mind giving her a slightly less complicated run-down of things. He skimmed over the fight with Crom Cruach, though Tamara still found it 'super cool' that he was able to fight against a god. His mother had been just a tad less enthusiastic regarding the fight against a deity far older than even the Olympians.

Finally, he finished by describing the day prior and his arrival back in New York. Nobody spoke for some time, with Scáthach and Hestia not needing to add anything, while Paul and Sally undoubtedly were wondering _how_ to reply. Percy himself checked out the window again and clenched his jaw slightly.

When Sally noticed the time, she was surprised to see that it was nearly nine in the evening. She and Paul agreed that it was time for Tamara to go to bed, considering that she had morning kindergarten the next day. At first, the girl refused to leave, but after she yawned loud enough to have the adults in the room laugh at her, she grudgingly agreed. Tamara gave Percy one last hug, while the son of Poseidon gave her a quick kiss on her nose. When she was in her room, Sally looked at Percy with concern.

"Do you have to fight?" She asked, her voice sounding slightly desperate. She twisted her shirt into knots as her hands clamped down viciously on the fabric. Percy could see the tightness in her body, and how her eyes almost seemed resigned.

"I feel it's only right," Percy responded softly, shaking his head morosely. "I'm fighting for her future now." He gestured to Tamara's room, sighing heavily into his hand. "Not just her though, so many more people too. I can't, in good conscience, just leave this to somebody else. The world became a whole lot bigger to me these past few years. I've come to see that this war needs to happen, and hopefully, after it's said and done, I can finally rest."

Sally snapped her eyes to her son. "Why does that sound like resignation to your own fate? Percy―Percy look at me―look at me…" she commanded, getting Percy to regard her with caution. "Why does that sound so fatalistic when you say it? You are _not_ dying on me. _Do you understand_?"

The young man was briefly taken aback by the steel in his mother's voice. He spared a glance out the window, before turning back to face his mother. "I can't promise you anything. You know that. I'm sorry."

"Percy… is there no other way? Please, your mother and I, we don't want to see you hurt," Paul said, his voice sincere as he wrapped an arm around his wife. "You've already fought two― _two_ ―wars. You aren't even twenty-five yet for crying out loud! And now you're saying that another one is already starting, and you're going to be fighting in this one too?"

Leaning forward in his chair, Percy let out a frustrated noise. "I know, it sucks. Thing is that I don't trust those others to do the job on their own. I'm gonna fight, just so that I can be sure that even if the end does come, I can die without regrets."

Sally bit back a sob and gave her son as angry a glare she could muster. "No! Stop… I don't want to hear it. Just… just do what you have to do… and come home to us, okay? You've already met Tamara… she's already gotten attached to her big brother. You have no right― _no right_ ―to die now."

"Fine," Percy replied softly, staring at his sister's door. "I'll do my best. It was always my intention… still… guess I just _can't_ die now. Too much to live for anyways."

"Yes, I'm sorry but I can't allow you to die either," Scáthach smirked, patting her student on the cheek playfully. "You've _far_ too much to live for."

Sally and Paul gave one another a meaningful glance when they saw the magenta-haired woman affectionately regard Percy. Both saw the way her hand lingered on his cheek and how her fingers languidly trailed off of his jaw. Scáthach's scarlet eyes were wandering Percy's face; Sally and Paul both noticed the way she watched the son of Poseidon with a new understanding of what Percy meant to the witch. While her affection was fairly nuanced, it was not impossible to catch, especially to those who were already searching her movements and language carefully and cautiously.

"So, Percy…" Sally started, clearing her throat and smiling at her son despite the previous outburst. "You and Scáthach seem to be quite close. Are you two…?" She left the question hanging in the air, though it was easily picked up by her son.

"Not… eh… not in a normal sense. There are a few things I have to sort out, though both me and Scáthach have admitted our mutual attraction to one another," Percy explained slowly. He stole the occasional glance toward his mentor, who simply seemed amused by his word choice.

Scáthach gave Percy a crooked smile and turned to Sally. "It's as he says. Your son is quite the playboy, having the _ever-so-difficult_ decision of picking between three separate women. Unfortunately, I'm quite the bleeding heart. I know how much pain your son has been through, so I humor him in his endeavors."

Sally turned to face Percy with a small frown marring her face. "Are you… leading three women on, young man?"

"...Uh… I can't confirm or deny that question for fear of incriminating myself," Percy muttered under his breath, shooting Scáthach a glare with no real heat behind it. "Besides, now we can lower that number down to two." He said, his eyes moving to the window.

Before anybody could say anything else, Percy stood from his seat abruptly. All eyes went to him, though he paid them no mind as he walked into the kitchen. The young man rummaged through a few utensil drawers before he found what he was looking for. Pulling out a chef's knife, he took a deep breath before stabbing his abdomen with the blade. The knife sunk nearly eight inches into his gut and Percy gasped at the pain that lanced through his body. Just as footsteps approached his position, he pulled the knife out of his body, clutching his wound as it healed marginally.

"Percy!" Sally shouted in horror, seeing her son lay the knife down, it's blade coated with his blood. Her eyes were wide as she noticed the blood dripping from his hand down onto the floor. "What are you-"

"Somebody is outside, across the street," Percy said through grit teeth. "They've been there ever since I first looked out the window. That's about four hours. Same spot, just standing there, looking in the direction of this condo. I don't know who it is, but I'll be finding out shortly."

"I'll be coming with you then," Scáthach's voice added as she walked into the kitchen with her arms crossed. "I know you can handle yourself, however, your last fight destroyed a major part of the landscape around you. I, at least, have a more subtle way to kill somebody."

Percy shook his head. "Stay here, defend my family."

Scáthach went to retort but was cut off when her student raised his hand. "Please. There could be more that I didn't see, waiting for an opening. Even if Hestia stays, she still can't fight a mortal unless they challenge her directly. Let's face it, not many people would be that stupid. At least you don't have that restriction in place. So please, for my sake… and for theirs… stay here," he pleaded.

With her face contorting, Scáthach nodded her head reluctantly. "Very well. I'll do as you ask. Just be sure to stay safe."

"Cool, then I'm off. Be back soon," Percy said as he walked past both his mother and his mentor. While moving past the living room he gave a nod to both Hestia and Paul, who undoubtedly had heard the entire conversation. Both looked grim but nodded back to Percy. With his wound healed to where he could fight without worry of bleeding out, Percy pushed the door open and moved down the stairs at a fervent pace. With dark eyes and an apoplectic scowl, Percy shoved passed a few pedestrians as they walked through the front doors of the complex. Nobody would hurt his family. Even if he had to tear their heads off with his bare hands, he would crush all threats mercilessly.

* * *

The sun had long since set on the city of New York. The night was cool, but not cold enough for a heavy coat or jacket. The temperature was quite comfortable, which only served to fuel Percy's anger at the stranger who was still standing in the shadows of an alleyway. On a night like that, somebody had the gall, the impertinence, the sheer vile temerity to watch him and his family as they laughed and reconnected. It burned at him hotter than a branding iron pressed to his chest. The son of Poseidon viciously shoved a few people away from him as he cut through the sidewalk and onto the street. With his eyes locked onto the figure, Percy took no notice of the cars that stopped and honked at him loudly for holding up traffic.

It was then that the stranger noticed the noise. Percy saw the figure drop their cigarette and dash away from the area. With a loud curse, Percy jumped onto the hood of a cab, running over the top of it as he gave chase. Weaving through the traffic, Percy moved off of the street and back onto the sidewalk, directly across from his mother's condo. He spared a glance at the sixth floor but didn't see a familiar face in any window. Focusing back on the matter at hand, Percy physically bowled over a few people while he was sprinting after his target. Angry shouts were directed at him as he basically threw random pedestrians out of his way with his enhanced physical capabilities.

The person he was chasing moved fast, cutting a sharp right that almost threw Percy for a loop. The son of Poseidon stopped sharply and pushed forward, taking the same path as his target. Percy caught a few glimpses of a masculine physique and short golden hair, which led the young man to believe he was chasing after a male. It did nothing to help identify the mystery man, especially since the rest of his person was covered by a brown cloak, though it was a step in the right direction. Once Percy caught up to him, then more questions could be answered. At the expense of the stranger's physical well-being, naturally.

The two made their way down Lexington Avenue, passing right by the Chrysler Building. Percy's breathing grew labored as he continued to sprint after the blond man. The ache in his chest and leg muscles soon began to feed his curse. While the pain was minimal, it still allowed him to push himself to move even faster, giving him the advantage in terms of speed.

At least, that's how it seemed. Once the blond stranger looked to see Percy gaining ground on him, he suddenly picked up his own pace. The son of Poseidon growled lightly and bit his lower lip, tearing through the squishy tissue with relative ease. Blood splattered his lower face and into his mouth. Healing the injury, Percy grabbed his left wrist, and violently jerked it downward, breaking the bone and submitting himself to flaring pain as the wound was healed.

A few people looked at him as if he were crazy, which in some regards could be true.

With the new addition to his attributes, Percy moved faster, this time steadily catching up to his opponent. People moved out of his way after seeing his brutal display of self-mutilation with disgruntled or confused expressions. They more than likely had already seen the man that Percy was chasing. For his part, the son of Poseidon hoped that they believed the chase was part of a movie scene or something along those lines. He wasn't sure if the Mist would hide the evisceration of the mystery man once he'd been caught, though he supposed there was no point in mulling it over too much.

The distance shrunk further and further, with the wind whipping at Percy's hair and eyes. He was sure that he was running faster than even the best Olympic sprinters, which was no surprise given the amount of damage he'd inflicted upon himself.

Soon, Percy was within arms reach of his target. Just as he reached out to grab the long brown cloak, his foe turned to face him mid-stride. A vicious grin lit up the blond man's face, one that had Percy on guard instantly. It was good, too, since a fist was sent hurtling towards his cheek within a second.

With reflexes honed over years of battling heroes and gods alike, Percy moved his left arm up to block. The man's fist crashed into Percy's forearm with bone-shattering force, sending Percy careening. The young man was lifted off of his feet and launched dozens of feet away, directly into the side of a building. Or rather, directly _through_ the wall of said building. Dust and debris were flung into the air with reckless abandon, littering the area with concrete. It was at that point people began to scream loudly.

Percy groaned as he pushed a few large pieces of debris off of his body. Almost immediately his bones had started to heal, along with the muscles and blood vessels that had been shredded by that single punch. Through grit teeth, Percy let out a few expletives as he stood back up, waving the dust out of his face. He looked around and felt a small surge of relief upon seeing that the building he'd crashed through was a closed music store. At least there had been no people around, otherwise, there probably would have been fatalities.

Exiting through the hole he'd created, Percy caught sight of his opponent turning the corner onto another street. "Motherfucker hits like a train," Percy muttered under his breath as he gave chase once more. His body felt thoroughly battered and his mind was starting to stretch under the pressure of pain. There was still plenty of leeway for damage, but Percy knew that if he allowed himself to shoulder more pain, each retaliatory swing he made would be enough to level office buildings. The shockwaves his attacks could create would be devastating with so many innocents around. Through the angry haze that descended upon his mind, Percy kept in mind that he couldn't afford to accidentally slaughter thousands of people just for the _chance_ to interrogate his foe. Losses like that were only acceptable if he was guaranteed to defeat the blond man.

The chase continued down the streets of New York, with Percy now moving even faster thanks to the punch from earlier. Unfortunately, his target was making good use of the City That Never Sleeps, slipping through traffic and cutting through alleyways in order to give Percy more trouble in catching him. Percy slid over the hood of a BMW and was hit by a cab coming the opposite direction as he followed the blond stranger. With a grunt, the son of Poseidon rolled over the windshield and fell onto the pavement heavily. Pushing himself up, he quickly regained his balance and healed the fracture to his pelvis.

Moving forward with no regard to the faces around him, Percy dashed past the helpful onlookers. Soon, the blond man ran into Central Park, with Percy only ten seconds behind him. Through labored puffs of air, Percy slowed down as he saw his target begin to walk. Wordlessly, the Hero of Olympus materialized Algos, the sword dropping easily into his left hand. With calm footfalls, Percy made his way toward the blond who stood at the center of Gapstow Bridge. Stopping at the head of the bridge, the Greek hero took a deep breath.

"You've really pissed me off tonight," Percy growled, his tone menacing and dripping with anger. "I'll ask this once and only once. Who are you?"

The blond regarded Percy with a small, almost predatory smile. "Charles," he introduced with a short salute. "It's a pleasure to meet―and be chased by―somebody as accomplished as yourself, Perseus Ajax Jackson."

"Charles? A boring name for somebody as strong as you are," Percy commented dryly as he took a step forward. He examined his foe more closely. Under a bright lantern, Percy could make out a crooked nose, with a nasty scar running over one of his deep cerulean eyes. Charles appeared to be nearing his mid-forties if the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth were anything to go off of.

With a small chuckle, the blond shrugged helplessly. "What can you do? I didn't choose the name, my parents did. Of course, I gained another name later on in life, after I had affected the course of history irrevocably." Without further preamble Charles threw open the front of his cloak, revealing a sword sheathed at his hip. The scabbard seemed unassuming, however, when Charles drew his blade Percy felt a sudden sense of elation enshroud him. Yet, at the same time, his skin crawled as he gazed upon the blade. The edge of the sword changed color, from a fine gold to a deep forest green, then to a radiant pink color.

"No need for words anymore," Charles said softly flourishing his sword a few times in his hand. "I wanted to see the legend himself in action. As such, I call forth this, my blade, Joyeuse, to guide me through the hand of God himself. Blind them with your brilliance, let them repent from wicked ways. The blade blessed will deliver me through all hardships."

With his words spoken, the sword in his hand began to glow slightly, before settling back down. Percy shuddered slightly as he felt something _shift_ in the atmosphere. It was then that Charles assumed a stance that Percy had seen Mordred use many times in their sparring sessions. The blond raised his sword and held in parallel with the ground, the handle of Joyeuse was near his face while the blade was pointed directly at Percy.

' _A swordsman trained vigorously in the art, no doubt.'_ Percy realized as he moved his sword into a lower position. The son of Poseidon approached Charles cautiously, reluctant to make the first move. The sword, Joyeuse, was undoubtedly a very dangerous weapon. As he closed the distance, Percy felt his apprehension grow and spread from his core into his extremities.

"You seem hesitant," Charles noted idly as he kept his guard. "Perhaps I should draw first blood then."

Percy didn't reply, keeping his own guard at the ready. A bead of sweat trickled into his eye.

He blinked a second too long.

A searing pain echoed throughout his body. Percy stumbled back and lost his guard as he grasped the burning gash that had been opened on his left shoulder. Charles took the opening and moved forward once again, swinging his sword in a controlled arc headed for Percy's neck. The son of Poseidon rolled out of the way and nearly paid dearly for showing his back. Charles lunged forward and impaled the place Percy had just been. Jumping to his feet, the Greek hero delivered a counterattack, which was blocked.

Charles, however, was pushed back by the sheer strength behind the blow. He grunted as he shook out his arms. Percy took the time to examine his wound, which still burned furiously. He felt a small amount of panic creep into him when he saw the injury wasn't healing. Focus as he might, the gash stayed open, with blood slowly oozing out of his shoulder and falling down his arm. His shirt was slowly becoming damp and sticky with his blood.

' _What!? It's not healing!? The fuck is this guy's sword!?'_ Percy questioned, his mind racing with a variety of thoughts. Suddenly, something that Chaos had told him ran through his brain.

 _A blessing is always a good start when countering a curse._

"A blessed blade huh?" Percy whispered to himself with dry amusement. "What the hell am I supposed to do about that?" He examined his foe with newfound caution. Joyeuse was shorter than Algos, which gave Percy the advantage in terms of reach. Of course, that wouldn't matter if Charles could get within his guard. Then again, he had the strength to push Charles back with each strike that was blocked. More pain would work in his favor, but taking his eyes off of the blond was no option. Disabling himself, even if it was only temporary, could lead to an early grave.

Percy was given no more time to think as Charles pressed forward. The curse-bearer was placed on the defensive, parrying the blessed sword carefully. Charles moved low and feinted, causing Percy to twist his body in order to block a strike that would have taken off his leg. Charles locked blades rapidly, before spinning on his heel and delivering a roundhouse kick to Percy's ribs.

The son of Poseidon was sent flying by the strength behind the strike. Crashing through several trees, Percy tumbled head over heels before coming to a dead stop. He pushed himself up and mended his ribs, wiping some dirt away from his eyes. The young man was able to narrowly block another swing meant to decapitate him. Percy pushed back and grabbed Charles by the neck before slamming their foreheads against one another. Both men staggered back from the blow, clutching their heads with their free hands.

"That hurt more than I thought," Percy groaned to himself.

When both regained their senses, they charged at one another. Charles sidestepped a downward swing and responded by trying to cut off Percy's arm. With a pirouette, Percy managed to dodge the strike and moved onto the offensive. He swung precisely so as to not draw unneeded attention to any unguarded extremities. Each stroke from his blade was intended to cut Charles' sword arm in order to disable him. As it was, though, the blond proved to be ambidextrous, much like Percy and Mordred. Even when Percy cut through Charles' right bicep, the aged man simply swapped Joyeuse to his left hand, wielding it with similar amounts of proficiency.

Charles moved to the left and cut through a tree, felling it with one swing. As the tree toppled over, the blond kicked it directly at Percy, sending it hurtling toward the Hero of Olympus. Percy jumped, planting one foot on the top of the tree as it passed directly under him and pushing off of it. Charles took the time to reverse his grip on Joyeuse, holding it out directly in front of him. Percy made to charge at his enemy, however, he paused when the blessed sword began to glow ominously in the dimly lit park. Charles loosened his grip and let go of his blade. Instead of falling to the ground, Joyeuse hung in the air.

Percy took a step back and shook his head slightly. "Did your sword just make gravity its bitch?"

Charles ran a hand through his tousled hair and gave a short bark of laughter. "It gets better. Joyeuse will sing the anthem of a legion of angels as they descend upon our mortal realm."

Just as Percy was about to scoff at the man, a flash of light from Joyeuse illuminated the area they were in. Percy covered his eyes, making sure that he still had a good lock on where Charles was at all times. When the light died, Percy blinked a few times in order to clear the stars from his vision. Unfortunately, the eleven other copies of Joyeuse didn't fade from his sight, meaning that they most certainly were not a product of his blurred vision. The young man nervously shuffled back a few steps. All twelve swords hovered in the air, not moving an inch, their edges changing color in unison with one another.

Charles stepped forward and took the center sword back into his good hand. He twirled the sword and pointed the blade at Percy. In an instant, the eleven other swords whirled through the air and pointed themselves at the son of Poseidon as well. With an easy smile, the blond swung his sword in a downwards motion. From Joyeuse, a large crescent-shaped wave of pure golden energy was expunged. The wave tore through the ground at rapid speeds, kicking up dirt, grass, and rock as it gouged its way through the landscape. The other copies of Joyeuse repeated the gesture, firing off their own waves of energy.

"What the fu-" Percy was interrupted as he jumped away from his position. The waves all coalesced into one massive explosion once they reached where he used to stand. The curse-bearer was caught in the explosion, with the energy burning the skin from the underlying tissue, scorching the upper left side of his body with blessed power. Percy was ripped off the ground and violently thrown dozens of feet away, destroying everything that he came into contact with via his body. Bones snapped and blood splattered his body as he crashed into the ground multiple times, tearing through the earth.

Eventually, his momentum was stopped when he used his hand to latch onto the ground painfully. Percy's body was wracked by violent coughs as he struggled to move. With a ragged gasp, the son of Poseidon pushed himself up with his right hand, unable to use his left any longer. No matter what he did to focus it was impossible for him to heal from the damage of a blessed weapon. He looked down at the wounded area, noticing that while it covered most of his left arm and pectoral, there was little to no blood. Instead, it was an angry shade of reddish brown with golden yellow spots littered throughout. Focusing on the wounds that could be healed, the Hero of Olympus let out a hushed groan of pain.

Percy stood up with a slight stumble forward. He caught himself from falling face-first into the dirt again. Algos lay a few feet from where he was, making it easy to retrieve. Once the sword was back in his hand, he turned to face the direction he knew that Charles was in.

The wind picked up slightly, blowing cool air across the small clearing that Percy was in. A few clouds were keeping the moon from shining down on New York. In the distance, there was a menagerie of sounds, though it was difficult to discern from the blood pounding in his ears. From where he stood, the war hero could see lights from a few high-rise office buildings. Behind his mental barriers, Percy could hear doubt begin to leak. If he couldn't win against Charles, his family could well be placed in danger. The attack that had been unleashed would be enough to level their complex, without them even realizing what was happening.

With taut muscles, Percy walked from his spot, Algos clenched tightly in his hand. Without warning, two Joyeuse copies buried themselves inches from where Percy had been.

The young man turned and swung his sword. Both blades shattered upon contact with Algos. The force of his swing also tore through the ground, ripping a foot off the top of the earth. Charles stepped out from behind a row of trees with a raised eyebrow. The nine remaining Joyeuse clones hovered in front of him, as if in a defensive position. The original Joyeuse was in his hand, glittering softly.

Percy gave no notice as he threw Algos directly at the blond man. The sword of suffering made contact with two more of the blessed sword's clones, destroying them due to the force behind the throw. Charles spun around, managing to avoid the blade by inches as it passed by his gut. Percy dematerialized Algos, before allowing it to reappear in his hand a moment later.

Charles clicked his tongue softly as he flicked his sword, causing the other copies of Joyeuse to fan out. The swords moved in separate directions, encircling the immediate area around Percy's position, each still with tips trained on the green-eyed hero.

Percy's lips twitched as he nearly laughed at the situation. Within less than a minute, the tables had been turned. While he wasn't at the same level as fighting against Crom Cruach, his physical boost was more than enough to overwhelm Charles' own capabilities. When they had been fighting on the bridge, Percy noticed his strikes pushed his foe back. Given the pain he'd gone through since then, it was only a matter of landing a solid strike.

Instead of laughing, the son of Poseidon snarled as the remaining seven copies began to encroach upon him. Percy moved through a flurry of swings and stabs made by the swords. Each of the blades moved independently, unlike before, where they had simply followed what Charles had done. Now, each was attacking vicariously, with fury and zeal that surprised Percy. Luckily for him, he'd already gained the upper hand, so each sword felt light as he flicked their attacks away with ease. The issue that he faced was that none of the Joyeuse copies allowed themselves to be struck by his own retaliatory swings. When one of their assaults failed, another sword came in to draw attention away from any vulnerabilities in the group.

Even so, Percy moved with fluid control as he pushed his body past the blade dance, parrying any sword that came close while dodging those he could. Eventually, the young man destroyed three more swords with one swing, their remnants falling uselessly to the floor.

With only four copies left, Charles seemed to have deemed the situation lost. The remaining clones moved away from Percy and fell back toward his position, where they flowed back into the original Joyeuse. Just as the blond man went to speak, Percy surged forward, charging at him. Percy swung his sword with abandon, crashing Algos against a defensive Joyeuse. The force behind the strike immediately sent Charles careening backward. A wave of vindictive pleasure surged through the Hero of Olympus as he watched his opponent tumble through the clearing. Percy moved after Charles, knowing that it would take time to recover after such a powerful blow.

Soon, the Greek hero stood a few feet away from an injured Charles. Both men looked quite the worse for wear, however, neither seemed ready to surrender. Algos glinted dangerously in the low light while Joyeuse glittered softly, both in the hands of their respectively capable wielders. In less than a second, both blades were connected for a brief moment, before they were forcefully separated.

Percy easily swatted Charles' attack away. Without hesitation, the son of Poseidon opened a deep wound across the torso of his foe. Blood dribbled off of the edge of Algos and onto the dirt below. With his opponent staggering back, the young man stepped forward and delivered a devastating straight kick to the chest. Charles fell back, clutching his chest as his breathing grew ragged. Percy raised his blade and brought it down, severing Charles' left arm at the elbow. Blood spewed from the wound with alarming greed. Deep cerulean eyes locked onto sea-green eyes, with understanding passing through both. There was no need for parting words. Percy drew his arm back slightly, before thrusting Algos at Charles' face.

With a loud clang, Percy's sword was knocked out of his hand, spinning off to the side before landing several feet away with a thud. The son of Poseidon narrowed his eyes as he backed off from the two figures that stood protectively over Charles' downed and battered form. One of the newcomers was a woman, while the other, a man, seemed similar to Charles in many respects. The man looked Percy up and down with an intimidating ferocity before he turned to face the defeated Charles.

"You almost died disobeying our liege's request," the man said gruffly, his voice slightly disappointed as he shook his head. "You should be thankful we came when we did."

Charles stared at the newcomers with forms of relief on his face. "Grandfather? Ng Mui? What…?"

Percy looked warily at the interlopers. The left side of his body still burned, however he felt no great gains in power. He concluded then, that damage done directly by Joyeuse countered both of the curses that he had. As such, he wasn't in a good position to be fighting off two of Charles' friends, especially if they had blessings that could harm him. The smart option would be to retreat, find a way to heal, and hope that Charles died from his injuries. As it stood though, Percy saw no way to leave without a fight, if the pose that the woman, Ng Mui, adopted was any indication.

The son of Poseidon took in the woman's appearance, noting that she was dressed in a dark green kung fu outfit. Her black hair was braided and hung over one shoulder. Percy looked at the other man, whom Charles had called his grandfather. Both appeared to be around the same age, though Grandpa Charles had a small amount of golden stubble on his face, as well as a couple extra scars running along his chin in parallel lines. Percy raised an eyebrow when he saw that the man wore black biker jeans and a white fur-lined coat. On his right hand was a steel gauntlet, which Percy assumed was what knocked Algos off course.

The tension in the atmosphere was nearly palpable, with the warriors still capable of fighting staring one another down. Percy's eyes shifted from Ng Mui to Grandpappy Charles multiple times, ensuring that neither made a sudden move against him. He could easily rematerialize Algos if he needed to, and he also had Riptide in his pocket, waiting to be called back into battle after so long. As his eyes darted to Grandpa Charles once more, Ng Mui made her move.

Percy reacted according to the woman's lightning fast attack. With a raised arm, Percy blocked a few rapid strikes that Ng Mui made with her bare hands. Shifting on his heel, the young man twisted his body and tried to roundhouse kick his new foe. Ng Mui ducked under his leg and struck out a few times, hitting his vulnerable left side with powerful blows. Percy stumbled over his own feet and soon felt searing hot pain stab at the entire left side of his body, from his head to his foot. Ng Mui moved in once more, this time pulling his left arm back and flipping Percy over, snapping his arm with relative ease.

With a grunt, the son of Poseidon pushed himself off the dirt and tripped Ng Mui with his foot. The woman fell, allowing some time to breathe and regain his bearings. He moved forward and rammed his knee into the recovering woman's stomach, causing her to double over and skid several feet away. Before she could stand once more, Percy was upon her, Riptide drawn and arcing down to sever her head from the rest of her body.

Ng Mui crossed her arms and jumped into Percy's personal space, blocking the downward motion by stopping his arm movement, though the strength behind the strike still transferred accordingly. The woman gasped as her guard was broken with ease. Her knees buckled under the strain and she fell to the ground. Percy moved back and stabbed Riptide forward, hoping that the Celestial Bronze would harm her. He wasn't sure if she was mortal or not, though he figured the risk was worth it. Before his blade could pierce her heart, the woman managed to roll her body out of the way.

Both warriors backed away from one another and narrowed their eyes. Percy dashed forward and swung at the woman, only to be deftly avoided. Just as he went to turn around, Percy felt a massive force impact the back of his skull. He was sent forward, his mind rattled by the blow and his vision swimming with bright lights and darkness in equal amounts. The son of Poseidon crashed into the ground painfully. He winced as his ears rang loudly, trying to lightly shake his head in order to clear the fuzz. Blinking a few times, the young man stood back up and glared at Grandpa Charles, who had joined the fight in order to help his comrade.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Let's all calm down a little bit now!" A new voice called out, stopping all combatants from moving. Grandpa Charles and Ng Mui looked slightly surprised to hear the voice, though there was a hint of relief in their expressions as well.

Percy looked around the area, spotting a youthful man walking toward the group. The man had shockingly white hair which was left untamed and slightly wild, not unlike Percy's own. He wore a plaid shirt underneath a navy blue sweater, his sleeves being folded to his forearm. A pair of gray chinos and tan boat shoes completed the look of preppy college student quite well. The man had a smile on his face that was nothing short of genial as he sauntered toward the trio. The white-haired man walked to the downed Charles, looking at the blond with worry etched on his face. Waving a hand, the injured man disappeared from sight without any visual cue. Percy realized that the newcomer was a powerful being, more than likely a god with that display.

 _'What's with this deus ex machina right now?'_ Percy shook his head lightly.

"My liege, I apologize for my grandson's impatience in dealing with Perseus," Grandpa Charles said, nodding to the white-haired stranger. He straightened and coughed lightly into his hand. "If I may ask, why are you here? We could have taken Charles back and dealt with Perseus on our own."

"I was aware of Charles' injuries," the newest addition spoke softly, looking at the place where the blond had been. "I felt that it would be necessary for me to intervene and provide my assistance. My brother is currently being dealt with by a particularly angry goddess in Persia, so I had a bit of free time. It is to my own chagrin, though, that I admit Charles wasn't the sole reason for me coming here."

Percy felt his stomach sink lower into his body slightly upon hearing what the white-haired man was saying. If he was connecting the dots properly, then signs pointed to the newcomer being one of the largest threats to the world at present time. The Hero of Olympus felt his heart pick up in pace, beating faster in his chest as his mind dared to contradict the logical conclusion. A shiver ran up his spine as the neatly dressed god turned to face him with a tender smile.

"I've wanted to meet with you for quite some time, Percy. Allow me to say that it is an honor to speak with you. Please, let me introduce myself," the god said as he bowed deeply to the young man. "The name my Wise Lord gave to me is Spenta Mainyu. You may call me what you wish, though."

The deity stood straight once more and looked at Ng Mui and Old Charles. "I would like to speak to Percy alone. Would you be so kind as to give us some privacy?"

Ng Mui looked apprehensive at the thought of leaving Spenta Mainyu with Percy, something that the Greek hero found utterly ridiculous. "Are you sure? You yourself classed him as one of the greatest threats to our goal." The woman said with worry.

Percy quirked his eyebrow but remained silent as he watched the interaction.

Spenta Mainyu only smiled gently at the woman's question. He walked toward her slowly, apparently disregarding both other men in the clearing. Once he reached Ng Mui, Spenta Mainyu lifted his hand and placed it gently on her head. He softly rubbed her head as he looked at her, the smile having never left his face. "Your worry is something that I appreciate. It shows me that through all of this, I still have allies who truly care for my well-being. So for that, I thank you, Ng Mui."

The woman's cheeks were suddenly lit up by a fierce blush as Spenta Mainyu planted a quick kiss on her lips. She nodded softly as he backed off, looking at Grandpa Charles with hints of embarrassment. "You heard him, we should leave so he can speak with Perseus."

"A few nice words, a chaste kiss, and you're putty in his hands, woman," Old Charles said with a shake of his head and a small smirk. "I don't like it though. Are you sure about this, my liege?"

Spenta Mainyu pat him on the shoulder heartily and chuckled. "I'm sure that I can handle myself. I can teleport, and Percy, well… he can't. It wouldn't be too difficult for me to escape should hostilities break out. Given his condition and the location though, I doubt we should worry too much about that."

With a sigh, Old Charles nodded his head and backed away. Both he and Ng Mui gave Spenta Mainyu one last glance, before they grasped a silver bracelet around their wrists, disappearing on the spot with an almost imperceptible glimmer.

The God of Benevolence ran his eyes over the area, taking note of the cracks and scars that the earth had gained. Trees were toppled and laying on their sides, with leaves scattered in every which direction. He let out a breath and pushed his hands into his pockets, shaking his head slowly.

"I'm sorry about Charles," Spenta Mainyu said carefully, taking note of the damage to Percy's body. "Now that he's out of the immediate area, you should be able to heal the injuries inflicted upon you. Charles was overzealous. I never ordered him to fight you, in fact, I told all of my allies to stay away from you."

Percy said nothing, instead focusing on the wounds that plagued his torso. Sure enough, once he focused on his curse, the tissue began to regenerate from both the explosion and the cut. Even through the pain that assaulted his senses, the son of Poseidon never took his eyes off of the god standing across from him. With his body back in fighting condition, Percy let go of a breath he'd been holding in. Spenta Mainyu casually walked a few steps around the area, not allowing the young man's stare to unnerve him.

"I do have to say that I'm just a tad downhearted that you were so willing to murder him without a word," Spenta Mainyu noted, his finger scratching just below his nose. "It's disappointing to know that my brother was able to bring out such a merciless tendency in you. Not to say that it was extremely surprising, of course, just somewhat… displeasing."

Percy looked around, mulling over the words in his mind. His eyes scanned the trees that surrounded him. Something settled in his stomach as he sighed loudly and shook his head, capping Riptide and dematerializing Algos simultaneously.

"Why?" Percy asked suddenly.

The god glanced his way, smile still plastered on his face before it dropped into a weary expression. "This world is filled with hatred, corruption, and sin. I'm fighting to create a better world. Peace. No wars, nobody goes hungry, nobody has to sell their innocent children into what amounts to slavery or prostitution. A world that takes only the best aspects of life, where everybody in it can live happily. Where only the good prevails. Is that not a goal to work toward?"

The Hero of Olympus skeptically regarded the god. "Ahriman said you wanted revenge against him and humanity."

"Well, my brother will be dying once the new world is born," Spenta Mainyu said with a frown. "My plan only involves killing those humans who have been tainted by the qualities of the old world. Children of a certain age and under will be malleable enough so that they can be reconditioned. They will be the first generation. Of course, there will need to be a controlled population quantity. We'll say around five-hundred-million should be fine. This would lead to the unfortunate culling of almost three-hundred-million children of the aforementioned age group, however, in order for the new world to remain safe, this step is necessary."

"Your goal may be pure," Percy conceded, contempt clear on his face. "But your methods are absolutely revolting. You can stop talking about this shit because I don't want to hear your deluded ideas of saving the world."

Spenta Mainyu allowed his eyes to drop to the ground. "Do you think that this is easy for me to even consider? I was made to _help_ humanity, but they always _refuse_ to see the light. They will ruin themselves eventually, leaving nothing but ashes in their wake. I want to prevent that! With proper guidance, they can be preserved! Humanity will be saved, no longer needing to fear the darkness this world has to offer."

"Whether it's easy or not doesn't really concern me," the green-eyed hero stated with stony indifference. "I don't care that it's difficult for you to consider it. What I care about, is that in the end, you're planning on going through with it. With that in mind, the only way I see this ending is with us on opposite sides of the tracks."

"That isn't true though!" The god exclaimed with slight traces of excitement. "We―you and I―we can work together. There really isn't a need for us to be enemies! I know you, Percy. I know… I know what truly hides beneath the surface. I've watched you for so long. Since you were a child, actually. Your birth signaled a new era, one that would usher in massive change for this world. I wanted to find the source of light that almost… beckoned to me…" Spenta Mainyu looked to the sky with reverence. "I traveled to this place, the United States, and searched for years. Then, I found you and your mother… with that miserable wretch, Gabe Ugliano. You and your mother… the love I felt you two shared… it was so… stunning. I wanted more, to see something so beautiful, something so _pure_. Yes, the love between you and Sally was almost intoxicating. But… she had to protect you from monsters, so she settled for that horrid man. At first, I wanted to help. I wanted to be there, protect you from the world, help raise you… I didn't though. I knew you had to understand suffering in order to bring about change. If I involved myself too much, I would never want to see you suffer.

Instead, I allowed myself to temporarily ignore the bright shining light that you were. It was difficult, but I managed to busy myself with other things. Plans needed to be made and checked after all. It was to my great misfortune then, that when I next checked on you, something else had taken hold in your heart, in your very soul. It was ugly, vile, something that I bemoaned for days on end when I saw it. I hated myself for allowing it to take root. Admittedly, I also blamed you, for changing from what you once were. It still holds a place there, in fact, it has incorporated itself into your very being. It grows stronger still, as it feeds upon your life experiences. Once I stopped my grieving, however, I realized that this must have happened for a reason. It was only when I looked into your life further that I came to understand how this corruption actually helped you grow into the person you are today. I'm smart enough to see that even now, it drives every aspect of your life and will continue to do so until you die."

Percy took a few steps back, moving away from the white-haired god, who was looking like he'd found a nugget of gold.

"Fear." The son of Poseidon whispered, almost involuntary, as the word left his mouth feeling dry and bitter.

Spenta Mainyu nodded forlornly. "Fear. A very basic instinct that is found in all forms of sentient life. Most humans go their entire lives living in fear of something. Death is most common amongst fears of the general population. Pain, is another, considering most people don't enjoy vast amounts of it. You have lived in fear for so long, that you don't allow much else to dictate your actions. You protect people because you're afraid of them dying and leaving you. You help people because you're afraid of how you'll feel later on if you never acted. You're afraid that if somebody you care for dies, you'll lose the sense of security they bring to you. You don't care for their well-being due to altruism. You care because of your inherent selfishness. It is this fear that drives you to do what you do."

Percy felt his body shake as the God of Benevolence spoke. He took a deep breath and stared at Spenta Mainyu, calming himself as quickly as he could. It almost left him speechless at how accurately he had been read. After so long, Percy truly believed that nobody could have understood his motives. He never really felt like the hero, and hearing Spenta Mainyu explain his fear out loud, it only enforced his own conclusions. He was just another selfish person, using his fear to his advantage. It was his own fear that allowed him to grow stronger. Without that, he'd never have been able to fight Kronos or Hyperion in New York. He would never have accepted the curse from Angra Mainyu to become stronger. He'd never have used the curse to save Thalia on the hill. While his actions were driven by fear, they focused on others, for his own sake. He wasn't afraid of death or physical pain. He was afraid of not being able to be… happy. Or perhaps there was something else that he wasn't aware of, something that could only be revealed with more introspection into his psyche.

"Many people learn to live with their fears, understanding that fear will permeate all parts of life," Spenta Mainyu continued, stepping forward looking Percy directly in the eye. "You've taken it further though. I still consider fear a vile corruptor for humankind, yet, I see how it can be used. You are so… interesting… Percy. You went beyond simply understanding the fear you felt. You've come to terms with it, haven't you? You use the fear to make you grow stronger and stronger. You adapt to situations incredibly well. That being said, you don't allow the fear to consume you. Imagine, though, if you accepted the fear completely into your being. It has driven you so far already. I love it. I love you, _for_ , it. I love the fear that makes you such a selfish… such a beautifully twisted creature…"

The god lifted his hand and placed it on Percy's cheek, a smile spreading across his lips. "I want you to help me, Percy. I will spare those you care for. They can live separately from the new generation. Someplace where they can't influence the children and taint them with the illness of the old era. They can live. I promise you this. As such, we have no quarrel. Your loved ones aren't in danger, meaning there's no reason for you to fight."

Percy slapped the god's hand away and glared at the ground. "No. I won't allow you to kill over six _billion_ people. I'd never be able to look at myself in the mirror again."

Spenta Mainyu let out a soft sigh. "I figured you'd say as much. Fear is such a strange thing. It warps your perceptions so much, between right and wrong. You are such a strange species, you humans. It doesn't matter right now. In the end, I have a feeling that you'll see my reasoning. Hopefully, by then, you'll have come to see the bigger picture. Perhaps my brother will have given you all of the pieces to the puzzle as well by that time."

With that said, the god backed off and reached into his pocket. Percy was put on guard, ready to materialize Algos at a moment's notice. Spenta Mainyu held up his hands, showing a small medallion between his fingers. With a small flick, he tossed the medallion toward the son of Poseidon, who deftly caught the item with one hand. Upon closer inspection, the medallion was shaped similarly to a torch with a flame in it, made from a shiny silver metal.

"What's this for?" Percy asked, staring at the medallion.

"Consider it a parting gift. I hope you get something for me the next time we meet," Spenta Mainyu replied casually, his cordial smile back in full force. "Goodbye, for now, Percy."

"Hold on just a min-" Percy started, before the white-haired god dissipated into small particles of dust. "Fucking dick. Not much different from his brother. Both of them are cryptic asshats."

The son of Poseidon spared one last glance at the 'gift' from Spenta Mainyu before he pocketed the item. He looked around the clearing and shook his head. He began his trek back to his mother's condo, his mind racing at the interaction with the enemy. If Percy had learned anything, it was that Spenta Mainyu was a severely misguided idiot.

* * *

 **A/N: Tamara is a play on the name Tamora, from Shakespeare's work _Titus Andronicus._ I know that it's an actual name but this is how I pictured Sally and Paul to have thought about it when they named her. **

**Ng Mui was a Chinese martial arts expert of her time (around the late 1600's to early 1700's from what I understand.) She created her own style of fighting and was proficient in the use of many others. She is known to be one of the Five Shaolin Elders, who survived the destruction of the Shaolin monastery by the Qing government.**

 **I'm sure that Charles' more popular name is known to a ton of people, but I wanted to leave it unsaid for this chapter. I just went with the Latin version of his name, being Carolus, turning into Charles. Of course, with Charles' better know identity being discovered, his grandfather should also be easy to know for those who know their history, or to those who wanted to do some research into it. If you don't want to do research and aren't a history person, no worries! Both Charles and Grandpa Charles' identities will be revealed next chapter.**


	15. Enter, Bathtub Barracuda

**A/N: Quick Author Note. Finals are over and I managed to score a neat little internship for the summer. Normally, summer would be a free time, which would mean potentially faster chapters written. This summer will not be one of those. As an intern, I should still have a decent amount of time and energy to work on the story, so it hopefully won't suffer in terms of updates. Yay.**

 ** _Reviews:_**

 **some fucking random guy- Only the juiciest.**

 **Death Fury- Thanks for your feedback.**

 **Shigure Toshiro- Glad you enjoyed the chapter!**

 **Trigger-Happy Texan- I've never actually taken a psychology class, though I have read a tiny bit on the subject. Certainly not enough to qualify me to talk about it in depth though, haha. I'm glad you enjoyed it, thanks for the feedback!**

 **Guest- Thanks for the kind words!**

 **Malosi06- Thanks for your support! I'm glad you liked how the chapter played out.**

 **ZedricSOZ- I'm glad that I managed to brighten somebody's spirit with what I write. As an author, it definitely feels good to hear that people can have such reactions when reading a story. I'm also glad that I can be counted as an inspirational source for you. If you need help with your story in any aspect, I'd be happy to help however I can. Don't hesitate to PM me if something does come up. Thanks for the review and your kind words!**

 **divineboss2000- Yes sir. Definitely two of the historical figures I always think about when people talk about great leaders.**

 **MasterTrident- Yeah, his sword is pretty iconic. As usual, you bring up good evidence that just shows my own lack of intimate knowledge of armed and military combat. I never intended Percy to use both swords at once, since I knew there wasn't much historical recording of two full-length swords being wielded at the same time. I just never really knew the reason, so thank you for pointing out some of the faults there. When you think about it, Spenta Mainyu is just doing the best he can. He's trying to be the Little Engine That Could in a world that's out to get him. Thanks for the review and your thoughts!**

 **justafan- Yup, it was Charlemagne. When I was writing the scene, I wasn't really picturing Kaworu and Shinji, but now that you mention it, there does seem to be some elements. More of Spenta's character will be revealed, which will delve into the 'love' that he has for Percy. The main difference here, is that Percy won't really be reciprocating those kinds of emotions toward the god. I feel like Sally would be kinda weirded out with Hestia going after her son, though, in the end she would get over it, considering that the Greek pantheon is pretty open about the whole 'incestuous relationship' thing. Thanks for the review!**

 **saske92ii- Thanks for the positive words! Angra had no way to know that his brother was so obsessed with Percy. For now, he knows that Percy is a special person, and that he can do a lot of things that would be extremely difficult for anybody else. More of Angra's motivations and plans will be revealed as the story goes along. Things are starting to come together though, and I'm sure people can draw their own conclusions as more information comes to their attention. Once again, thanks for the review and the support!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not make any money off this work of fanfiction. All rights for the characters in Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus go to Rick Riordan and all who were involved in the creation of the novels.**

15\. Enter, Bathtub Barracuda.

Lifting his hand tiredly, Percy rapped on the door to his mother's condo. The walk back to the complex had been long, with the young man being lost in thought for most the time. The cool air had bothered him, considering that most of his shirt was in tatters. His jeans fared better, though there were some noticeable tears in them. Thankfully, the son of Poseidon was still mostly decent, even though some of his torso was exposed to the world.

While the cold was slightly troublesome, Percy was more concerned with the visit he'd been paid by Spenta Mainyu. It certainly hadn't gone like he expected their first meeting to play out. In his mind, he'd always pictured more violence involved when he first met Spenta Mainyu. Not only that, but the God of Benevolence was almost always portrayed as a raving, hate-filled warmonger in his mind. Then again, Percy never asked Ahriman the specifics of Spenta Mainyu's condition and objectives. In the end, though, he doubted that he would have formed the proper image in his mind of the god's true nature.

As it stood, Percy was a tad concerned that the god had come to understand him to such an extent. There was something inexplicably odd about having the inner machinations of his mind laid out in front of himself. He figured, though, that most people found being analyzed so proficiently a strange occurrence. Most, if not all, more than likely believed that their minds were sanctified grounds, which could house everything they desired from the rest of the world. The mind was the only place for true privacy. If somebody were to be able to analyze the mind of others, any semblance of trust would crumble quickly.

With far too many questions in his mind, the son of Poseidon smiled when the door opened to reveal his mother. Her face conveyed her shock well as her eyes widened at seeing his torn clothing. Pulling him inside, Sally inspected her son for further damage but found nothing of particular interest. She allowed her critical gaze to fall back onto the slightly sheepish face of her son. With a sigh, Sally hugged her son tightly, squeezing a bit harder than necessary in the process of showing her affection. Percy said nothing, even as he felt the air slowly leave his lungs from the embrace.

"I really hate it when you have to fight," Sally whispered softly, her face hidden in Percy's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Percy replied in an equal tone of voice. "Turned out to be one guy working of his own volition. Though, he was part of a larger group, who I can only assume are working for Spenta Mainyu."

Sally felt her breath hitch as a shiver went up her spine. "Will you tell us what happened?"

The son of Poseidon let go of his mother and backed away from her. "Yeah, I'll fill you guys in. Do you have anything for me to wear though? While it's novel for me to be walking around with ripped clothing, I'd prefer to be fully dressed."

With a chuckle, his mother nodded her head. "Take a seat in the living room. I still have a few of your old clothes that would probably fit you. We never really got rid of your belongings, even when Paul and I moved here. I always knew… we'd see you again… though I suppose keeping the clothes might not have been the smartest idea." Sally ran her hand through Percy's hair. "After all, there was no guarantee that you would have the same build as you did when you were seventeen. It's a good thing I guess, that you didn't grow too much more."

The son of Poseidon's eyes roamed down to his body as he lifted an eyebrow. His mother wasn't too far off the mark, considering that the only noticeable change in his appearance was perhaps that his muscles were slightly more toned. While Mordred and Scáthach's training was rigorous, it was never meant to build strength and develop muscle. He trained mostly to use the curses properly and to reinforce his already excellent swordplay. In the end, he figured that it worked out well.

Mordred had even gone as far as to claim that Percy could fight against Lancelot, Percival, Galahad, and Gawain with his sword skill alone. When Percy considered that each name mentioned was a famed knight―some of the best swordsmen of their time, even―his own prowess had been put well into perspective. Of course, he figured that Mordred was exaggerating slightly, if just to pat herself on the back for training him to such an extent.

' _Then again, she really did prepare me. I wonder if I ever thanked her properly?'_

"Well, I did grow an extra inch in height, but other than that I've basically stayed the same," Percy admitted to his mother. "Then again, it was difficult to improve on something so close to perfection anyway."

Sally gave her son a funny look, shaking her head at his smug expression. "Whatever you say. Go sit and relax a bit, I'll get the clothes."

Chuckling to himself, the young man took his mother's advice and moved down the hallway. Entering the living room, Percy took note of how all eyes shot to him the moment he entered their line of sight. With a nod to Hestia, Paul, and Scáthach, the son of Poseidon took a seat back by the window. He spared a glance at the street below. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Percy leaned back in the chair and groaned softly.

"Always so much trouble," he muttered lowly, covering his eyes with a hand. "I'll assume that you want me to fill you in on the juicy details?" He asked, not looking at any of the room's other occupants. The darkness that enraptured him allowed for a moment of respite. The pain from his earlier encounter was ebbing away slowly, however, there was no stopping it from pulsating in the very back of his mind. It was a whisper, an almost loving caress from a close friend, something that constantly reminded him of what he was sparing others from feeling. In a way, he was glad that he could shoulder the pain himself. He could free others from the suffering.

Another part―something far more treacherous―reveled in the pain. With suffering came power. Only through hardships and suffering could one grow in strength, gain power to stop the pain. It became his strength, his own power, to use as he pleased in order to protect that which was dear to him. Protect it from being stolen from him, from leaving him alone.

"Please do enlighten us," Scáthach replied to his question airily. The young man uncovered his eyes and glanced around the room. Sally was returning with a new shirt and jacket in hand. With a grateful nod, Percy took the attire from his mother and stood up, removing what was ruined.

It was then that he heard two gasps of worry fill the room. Percy furrowed his brow and looked at his mother and Hestia. Both had their eyes widened as they stared at his bare chest. The son of Poseidon quickly deduced that both women were examining the terrible scar that Gáe Bolg had left. Paul grimaced upon seeing the old injury, his face wrinkling slightly.

Without thinking, Percy lifted a hand to where the cursed spear had struck. Due to the spears nature―and just how deep it had penetrated―the location of the scar was unable to be healed, even with his amazing regenerative properties. Even his shoulder, which had been cut by Joyeuse, a blessed blade, only had a light, nearly unnoticeable white scar. The damage to his chest, on the other hand, was impossible to miss or ignore. It was an ugly thing, which sunk about an inch into his body.

Hestia's eyes narrowed and immediately focused on Scáthach, who was doing her best to whistle nonchalantly as she averted her gaze to the ceiling. Sally noticed the goddess' reaction, moving her own attention to the magenta-haired witch. Percy pulled on the new clothing as he allowed himself to smile at the scene. He cleared his throat, garnering eyes to move to him once more. Scáthach relaxed slightly when the eyes of both Hestia and Sally left her.

"Right, well, I have good news, bad news, and… oh… I guess it's just good and bad news," Percy stated, tapping his finger to his chin. He felt his previously antagonistic and morbid demeanor slowly leave his system, which he was thankful for. "Bad news is that I met Spenta Mainyu in Central Park after my fight with the guy I was chasing. He's a pretty creepy dude, considering he basically admitted to me that he traveled across the world just to find me when I was a baby. In other words, I'm pretty sure that the God of Benevolence is a stalker. More bad news in that he definitely wants to kill more than six billion people so that he can create a better world, which is completely ridiculous. To top off all of that negativity, I'm pretty sure that his blessings are gonna be problematic in the future."

The young man took a moment to gather his thoughts and allow his words to sink in. He closed his eyes and scratched the tip of his nose contemplatively.

"And what's the good news then?" Hestia asked hesitantly.

Percy nodded and opened his eyes once more, his visage stony and unflappable. He leaned forward in his seat, intertwining his fingers together and letting out a deep breath. "He's got great fashion sense."

* * *

After having been berated for making light of the situation with his fashion joke, Percy had gone on to relay his fight with Charles. It was only when he mentioned the blond's sword was named Joyeuse that Paul released a sound that could be equated to a squeal of delight. The English teacher had gone on to explain that Joyeuse was the name of Charlemagne's personal sword, which had been used as a coronation device centuries after its original wielder 'died'. Apparently, though, the sword was most definitely _not_ in it's supposed display in France. At least, not the real Joyeuse.

"Hold up," Percy interceded, causing Paul to look at him. "You're telling me that I fought Charlemagne." The young man's eyebrows were raised, his face incredulous. "The first Holy Roman Emperor? A man who was named the 'Father of Europe'? The guy who united a lot of Western Europe under his empire with brutal suppression of almost all rebellions that popped up. That guy?"

Paul nodded his head enthusiastically.

"Well, I can't really find a proper response to that," Percy admitted while shaking his head slowly. "I wonder if there's a meme that could properly convey exactly what I'm feeling. I guess that's pretty cool though."

"Pretty cool!? Percy, you _beat_ a man considered to have divine intervention on his side during his fights. His name is still spoken today with respect because of his accomplishments! I'd say this warrants a bit more than such a lackluster and uninspired reply!" Paul raved, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. He panted a few times as he allowed himself to catch his breath. The older man suddenly noticed the odd looks that were directed his way from all other occupants of the room. Paul cleared his throat lightly and clasped his hands together.

Percy, for his part, could only shrug at his stepfather's impassioned outburst. "I mean, he wasn't _that_ tough to take down. The blessing on his sword is a real pain, but other than that, he's not to be considered a top-tier fighter. Against a god, I'm pretty sure he'd lose almost all scenarios. Maybe he could win against somebody like Uncle Tem or Muramasa, which is still impressive, but unless Charlemagne has more to him that I didn't see, he's just kinda… lacking."

"Be that as it may, who's Charlemagne's grandfather?" Sally asked, having calmed Paul down slightly with a placating hand to the knee. She turned to face Percy. "You said that Charlemagne's grandfather appeared along with a woman named Ng Mui."

Paul took out his phone and began typing something out. His eyes narrowed as he began to read what was on screen. "Charles Martel is his name. He was quite the military leader from what I'm seeing. Apparently, while he was commanding general, Martel only lost one or two battles in his entire life, neither of which were substantial losses in any manner. After the initial defeats, he went on to claim victory in every other major battle that he participated in." Paul stopped narrating for a few moments as his eyes scanned his phone. With a low whistle, Paul shook his head with palpable disbelief. "Perhaps his most notable victory was that of the Battle of Tours, where he defeated an invading force by the Umayyad Caliphate without any heavy cavalry of his own, while the invading forces were feared for their renowned mounted soldiers. Many historians agree that this was one of the most important battles of the entire millennia, arguing that it helped solidify Christian dominance in Europe. If Charles had failed, some believe that the Umayyad Caliphate would have controlled most of Western Europe by the turn of the next century."

Percy nodded his head, equally as impressed as he was sure everybody else in the room was. He recalled the cold, calculating, almost dominating cerulean eyes of Grandpa Charles. It wouldn't be a far stretch to imagine that those same eyes had done the same thing to so many other opponents before they had been slain. Percy idly wondered how strong Charles Martel really was. Then again, one could never just look at raw power as the deciding factor. Historically, Charles was said to have been a brilliant strategist. A smart opponent was always one to fear.

"An impressive pedigree," Scáthach commented. "Unfortunately, that history lesson gives us no concrete information about his personal fighting skills. Should we fight him anytime soon, we'll need to be intimately aware that not only is he intelligent when it comes to battle, however, he also has unknown abilities in terms of quantity and quality. The knowledge of who Spenta Mainyu has with him, though, is very nice to have. Of course, these three individuals certainly don't make up the full extent of his personal retinue. To an extent, we can expect he has a group much like our own, with anywhere between five and ten warriors."

"Conjectures at this point might only prove to make us more anxious about an unknown enemy than we might normally be," Hestia retorted calmly, smoothing out the fabric of her robe. "As it stands, we should focus on what evidence is directly in front of us. We can say for certain that Spenta Mainyu, while having seemingly good intentions, has a plan that would involve killing billions of people. He revealed very little to Percy, which was undoubtedly exactly what he planned from the start. I'm sure that he knew exactly what to say and what not to say. He said that he didn't ask Charlemagne to attack Percy, but he didn't say he wasn't expecting it nonetheless. With that in mind, we should be guarded against what Spenta Mainyu has to offer."

"We also can't ignore the fact that he inspires loyalty in those that follow him, if Percy's descriptions are anything to go by," Scáthach nodded, scratching her head as she spoke. From her position next to Percy's chair, she shifted to kick her legs out and stretch. "A man who not only has allies, but who has allies that follow him because they truly _want to_ is a very dangerous man indeed. While he didn't sound insane, he's clearly resorting to an extreme idea out of a misplaced sense of doing the right thing. He's fooled himself into believing that only he can bring humanity into line with the ideals that were imparted upon him. At least, that's what I garnered from the conversation Percy had with him."

There was a lull in the conversation as each person allowed themselves time to think.

In the forefront of his mind, Percy realized that Scáthach was hinting at the difference between Angra Mainyu and Spenta Mainyu. True enough, he never truly felt that any of those who worked under Ahriman did so because they actually wanted to follow the deity. It was more an alignment of interests in a certain time period. Mordred, Uncle Tem, Muramasa, and Lü Bu all had been basically forced into servitude by accepting the god's curse contract. He supposed it was the same with himself as well. The only person who had never mentioned Angra Mainyu in their past was Scáthach, the person who he knew and trusted the most.

That being said, he didn't know everything about her desires and plans for the future. When he thought back, Percy realized that he'd broached the subject a few times with his mentor. Never once had he received an answer. It wasn't that she gave him vague and unfocused responses. It was simply that Scáthach would never even _attempt_ to give him a real answer. Instead, she would simply shrug and change the subject with blatant disregard to his question.

While he didn't push for her to give him something concrete, it never really left the back of his mind, just how little he knew about Scáthach's motivations. Percy understood that his magenta-haired friend was reserved, however, something prickled at his brain when he thought about their familiarity.

In the end, it didn't matter much considering that she was already prepared to help kill the Zoroastrian God of Evil when the time came. Percy figured that her alignment with his own side spoke volumes about her own sense of duty toward Ahriman. It did, however, strike him as odd that she would serve him for two-thousand years before deciding to sever her ties in the most fatal way.

Of course, he didn't want to count his chickens before they hatched.

While he didn't like it, there was a distinct possibility that his favorite magenta-haired mentor was in fact _not_ on his side, and was instead serving her own self-interest. While it was selfish―something he was intimately aware of and uncomfortable with―Percy hoped that Scáthach cared for him as deeply as she implied. If that were the case, he could use her disposition toward him to make sure she was with him to the end.

He didn't need somebody to betray him at the most vital moment. It was unfortunate, then, that there was no way he could prove to himself that what his mentor felt for him was genuine. Had he the power to read minds it would have been a simple feat. Yet Percy had no such power, which disappointed him to an extent.

Spenta Mainyu had already pointed out that Ahriman was withholding more information from him. With that in mind, the son of Poseidon knew that there was more happening behind the scenes than he was aware.

Where before he acted in blissful ignorance of the schemes, something now wrenched at his stomach. It was like a deep hunger. It was more than that too. The feeling burned as it spread throughout his body before it would retreat back to that familiar place. Spenta Mainyu had been explicit in his own analysis of Percy. In doing so, the son of Poseidon felt like something had been revealed to him, even though he already knew of his own cowardice.

Spenta Mainyu had pondered out loud what would happen if Percy accepted the fear utterly and completely. If he were honest with himself, Percy had already asked that question to himself multiple times.

For years he'd used his fear in order to further himself. Yet, he was always afraid―ironically enough―to allow fear to fully dictate how he lived his life. If he accepted himself as nothing more than a construct of his fear, would there still remain a Percy Jackson? To discard everything else and embrace that there was no righteousness in his heart, and that he did everything for himself alone, that he didn't care about other people, but that he simply cared for his own being.

An image flashed through his mind, scorching itself upon his consciousness with finality. Yet the image was a memory of times he had once forgotten, slowly overtaking his consciousness and pulling him into its own world.

 _Anaklusmos centered perfectly, impaling a young goddess with bright blonde hair, cutting her plans and ideas short with an edge of celestial bronze. Stormy eyes wide with near disbelief, yet that held resignation and acceptance to their fate, met at the hands of a cowardly man._

 _Algos hovering over an outstretched neck, raven-black hair barely reaching the blade's edge. A glint of silver around the head connected to the target, reflecting one last ray of brilliant light before it was extinguished by a selfish man._

 _A hand, grasped tightly around the throat of a struggling woman, her teeth clenched with her scarlet red eyes set in defiance and anger. Breathing grew ragged even as her eyes became misted with tears born out of both helplessness and a lack of oxygen. A broken man tightened his grip, ending a story two-thousand years in the making._

 _As the world slowly collapsed around him, a man born out of necessity mourned over the losses he'd inflicted upon himself. Dropping to his knees, he slammed his fists onto the cracked earth, letting go of a guttural scream birthed by anguish. Tears fell, streaking down his cheeks and slowly dripping off his chin. The words that left his mouth were hollow; a mantra to dispel the guilt that consumed his mind. There was no other option. Strength born of fear and pain. Victory only obtained due to his heart of stone._

Percy winced as a sharp pain shot through his brain. His mental barriers were suddenly assaulted fiercely, setting the young man on edge as he took several deep breaths. The image soon began to fade from his thoughts, it's existence fragmenting into vague shards of glassy, translucent material. The son of Poseidon blinked several times as his senses returned to him. No longer did the scent of burning flesh and scorched earth reach his nostrils, nor did the feel of blood permeate across his hands. He could no longer feel the dry air whip at his skin and the salty taste of his tears was gone, leaving only bitterness in its wake.

The image was something that he couldn't really understand. While it felt like a memory, he was certain that none of what he had seen actually transpired. After all, those that had died in the image were very much alive in the real world. Apart from the obvious, however, Percy didn't grasp why the image was related to his fears.

He wasn't supposed to kill those he cared for. No, he _feared_ them dying. Yet, his mind was clearly trying to tell him something. With the question tearing at his conscience, Percy pulled his focus from introspection and back to his mother's living room.

With the young man returning to the world at large, he realized that the others were discussing the woman who he fought against, Ng Mui. He managed to gather that she was a very talented martial artist―a verified master of the discipline, really. His attention drifted between the conversation and the pull of drowsiness which was becoming more prominent. The son of Poseidon felt his eyes heavy, a sign of his obvious exhaustion from the day's occurrences.

He sat back in his chair, running a hand over his face as he let loose a sigh. Suddenly, he felt a weight press down on top of his hand. Opening his eyes, Percy saw that Scáthach had moved her own hand on top of his. She didn't look at him directly, though her mouth shifted upward slightly when he simply turned his hand over, allowing their palms to connect. Percy felt his thoughts clear slightly at the feel of his mentor's slightly callused palm. Her being a spear wielder of two millennia meant it was only natural for her skin to harden from the constant abuse.

Soon, Scáthach pushed her fingers between his, intertwining their digits together as she curled and grasped his hand gently.

Percy blinked at his friend's blatant show of affection in front of other people. There was no discomfort, and if anything, it felt pleasant. Her hand was far warmer than his was, and while it wasn't particularly soft, Percy could take comfort in the security that her hand seemed to provide to him.

There was a depth to her actions that brought something up from his chest and into his throat. She had obviously noticed his distress, whether from the sigh or from a time before. He let out another sigh when he realized that he'd analyzed the situation in far too much depth. Percy allowed himself to migrate back to the conversation.

"A good question. Whoever she is, I hope that she doesn't cause too many problems, otherwise Percy and I might be stranded here for a while," Scáthach said smoothly, though the frown on her face relayed her disposition toward the topic. "I wonder if it has anything to do with the gods who have faded already. If Spenta Mainyu were to have resurrected another pantheon, it would spell trouble, no two ways about it."

Percy quirked his eyebrow and looked around the room. "Uh, can somebody fill me in on what we're talking about? I may or may not have spaced out for a little while."

The son of Poseidon was met with a series of deadpan stares. Hestia decided to speak first, garnering the young man's attention in the process. "We were questioning who could be confronting Ahriman in Iraq at the moment. You told us that your benefactor was preoccupied with an angry goddess. That in mind, none of us are particularly excited about the prospect of another pantheon returning from the Realm of the Faded."

"Good point," Percy conceded with a nod. "I'd hate to have to fight even _more_ gods than I already have to. Not only that, but like Scáthach said, we might be stranded here if Ahriman isn't around to give us the next step in his _master plan_ ," the young man contemplated, rolling his eyes.

Scáthach looked at Percy with her piercing eyes. A moment of silence followed as the two warriors examined one another, with Percy growing more confused as time passed. He glanced around the room, only to see that his mother and Paul were speaking silently to one another, with Hestia smiling warmly at the young man. Finally, he returned his eyes to his mentor, who had moved a bit closer to his face when he was looking away.

"Why don't you act on your own?" Scáthach asked suddenly. "You have power, you have goals to attain, and you clearly have people who would follow you to the ends of the Earth and back again. Why is it that you relegate yourself to being a subordinate? As you stand, I believe that you could make the proper choices on how to act in most situations. More than that, I feel that you should learn to take a proactive stance to the world. If you remain reactionary, eventually, you will lose something or someone that you hold dear. In that scenario, you will only be able to _react_ to the trauma. Instead, why not focus on _preventing_ it from happening in the first place?"

Four sets of eyes moved to the contemplative face that Percy bore. The young man used his free hand to hold his chin, his own sea-green eyes locked onto the floor with scrutiny. It was made apparent to the other's that the Hero of Olympus had an answer if his moving lips were to be trusted. What seemed to be holding him back, though, was the proper way to convey his response. Patiently, they waited for him to find the words that would give them their insight.

A full minute passed before they received any reply. When he did speak, Percy spoke with a weariness that belied the depth of his beliefs. "Leading people… all it does is place the responsibility for their lives on you. It's on _you_ if those who follow live or die. Those people believe in you for a reason. They would fight, kill, and die for you. The people who follow you out of love, out of true conviction in your shared ideals, out of genuine emotion, deserve to be more than just bodies in a crowd, names on a list. They deserve to be more than a means to an end." The young man's words came faster and grew more pronounced as he frowned heavily.

"In my case, I can't use those people just to reach my goal… because in the process their corpses will prove to me that my goal was never real. The light leaving their eyes would show me that I never had true conviction in what I wanted… that I lied to myself and to them for no reason… and that I was never worth any sacrifice they made!" Percy tore his hand away from Scáthach's and stood up, throwing his arms out indignantly.

"Letting the people I love fight for me; letting them die for me? What would be the point since what I want is to keep them safe? Where would my conviction be? How could I ever ask anything from anybody else, and how could I wake up every morning, knowing that I'd failed not only them, but myself as well? Nobody could ever follow me and desire what I desire! Nobody could fight with the same conviction to hold onto my goals. If I asked them to follow me, to fight for me, to die for me, what the hell would be the point in wanting to save them? No matter how you look at it, the path that I'm going down doesn't end happily! Why should I ask anybody to follow and deny themselves happiness?"

The son of Poseidon heaved a long, tedious breath and scowled furiously at nothing in particular. The tightness in his chest grew two-fold as silence met his fervent explanation. He felt the need to pull at his hair but refrained from doing so. He was sure that such an action would only make him look slightly more manic than he wanted.

With his breathing stabilized, Percy dropped his gaze as his face fell along with it. The silence that greeted him was daunting, however, in it, he felt a modicum of peace. While it hadn't been stated outright, he allowed himself to take small comfort in the fact that he'd admitted some of his fears in a roundabout manner. Even if they didn't understand his stance the Hero of Olympus felt relieved.

 _Victory only obtained due to his heart of stone._

Percy wondered if Spenta Mainyu's words to him had triggered a nervous breakdown. After all, he hadn't been nearly as troubled at the start of the day. Then again, so much had happened in such a short span of time, it was no wonder he was feeling so stressed. For a moment, he wished he had the courage to talk about what was bothering him. To speak of it to others, though, brought about new fears.

 _The words that left his mouth were hollow; a mantra to dispel the guilt that consumed his mind._

Even with his mental training, not everything could be pushed back and held at bay. There was only so much that he could withstand. Even he, the hero that never deserved to be, could fall to his own inner tribulations. The life he led was not one to be scoffed at nor one to be taken lightly. Percy idly wondered if he'd always walked the path he was on, or if somehow, somewhere in a time already forgotten, a choice had been presented to him.

 _There was no other option._

With tired movements, the son of Poseidon sat back down. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, waiting for somebody to speak up. As his hand fell back onto the armrest, he noticed that his mentor had not moved since his sudden departure. Percy met her hand with his own, though he waited to make any kind of gesture. It was to his surprise when he felt Scáthach grab onto him. Soon, their fingers were intertwined once more, almost as if nothing had happened.

"Sorry about that rant," Percy said, finally dispelling the quietude. He opened his eyes and glanced around at his friends and family. "I just wanted to get how I feel out in the open. It… kinda got away from me in the end though." A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he closed his eyes once again. "Like things usually do."

"It's been a fairly long day for you, Percy. I feel that it would be wise to allow yourself to rest for the night," Hestia said quickly, seeing that her nephew was exhausted in all aspects of the word.

For his part, Percy gave his aunt a nod. It was almost impossible to deny that he was tired. He was sure that everybody could see the way his shoulders drooped, or how his eyes struggled to remain open even when he was speaking. There would be no reason to stop himself from sleeping and recuperating from the arduous struggle that the day had turned out to be.

"We have an air mattress somewhere that we can set up for you," Sally offered, her expression hopeful as she addressed her son. "Or you can sleep on the couch, or if you want you can even take our room while Paul and I take the air mattress. We can have breakfast tomorrow morning together as well, and you're more than welcome to stay for however long you want and need!"

Percy raised his eyebrow and glanced at Scáthach for a second. "Uh, thanks for the hospitality, but, where would Scáthach sleep?"

The spearwoman laughed lightly and gripped Percy's hand a bit tighter. "I can sleep wherever you sleep, Percy! I hope you aren't implying that I'm too large to fit on an air mattress with you, otherwise that might hurt my feelings." Her face dropped slightly into a faux look of dejection.

The son of Poseidon rubbed the bridge of his nose. "This is why people get the wrong impression about the two of us. Well… sort of the wrong impression… or rather an impression of a relationship that hasn't developed to the point that they're thinking of…"

"Dig yourself deeper, Percy. Keep on digging," Scáthach smiled, cocking her head to the side. "It's amusing to see you try and explain exactly what you and I are to one another. Then again, it's getting a bit old to hear your sad excuse, even I admit that."

"That was pretty venomous," Percy noted with a hint of anxiety.

The witch smiled brighter at her student. "Was it? Oh, I suppose some of what I'm feeling must be getting through then. Sorry."

"...Why doesn't it sound like you actually _are_ sorry?" The son of Poseidon muttered softly looking away from his mentor.

A cough broke the two warriors from their small verbal interplay.

Sally had made her way to where both Percy and Scáthach were sitting. She stood over the Greek hero and poked a finger in his chest. "I hope you know that there is absolutely no reason to play with the emotions of three women, young man! I thought I raised you better than to become one of _those_ men, but obviously, I failed in that respect. I want you to do your damnedest to sort out your feelings and give each and every one of those girls a proper and definitive answer!"

Percy watched his mother stalk out of the room, muttering lowly to herself. He shook his head slowly as he looked at both Hestia and Paul inquisitively.

"Your mother means well, Percy. I think it would be smart to come to a decision quick so that you aren't putting yourself in a bad position later down the line," Paul said with a sigh. "If you let things get out of hand, I feel like you'll only hurt the people involved; which would mean yourself as well as the ladies you're pursuing."

Hestia nodded along with what the older man was saying. "Yes, it would be for the best. I'm sure that you don't want to hurt anybody, which will undoubtedly happen even now, however, if you wait for this to escalate… well… I've seen wars started over love triangles and misunderstandings." The goddess stroked her chin thoughtfully as her eyes roamed over Percy and Scáthach. "Of course, there is a way that may keep everybody happy in the end. It wouldn't be an ideal situation, _per se_ , yet it's an option that you may want to mull over if the women in question are open to it."

With a raised eyebrow, the son of Poseidon motioned for his aunt to continue. Hestia cleared her throat as her eyes flit between Scáthach and Percy. "Have you… by any chance… ever considered a polyamorous relationship?" The goddess asked, her voice becoming both subdued and slightly abashed as she spoke. "It might be… ah… that is… it could help with the… situation… you found yourself in."

An awkward pause settled between those still in the living room.

"Ah, haha, I think I hear Sally calling me to… uh… help her… find… erm… something…" Paul laughed quickly, as he stood up and shuffled out of the room. "It was good to see you again, Percy. And it was very nice to meet you, Scáthach, Hestia. Goodnight then!" With that said, Paul exited the living room, a relieved sigh escaping his lips just within earshot of the three remaining figures.

Percy felt his eyebrow twitch as his stepfather made a hasty retreat from the excruciatingly uncomfortable atmosphere that had formed. The young man took a few moments to gather his wits, unsure of how to respond to Hestia's question. Before him, two paths were made apparent.

He could be truthful, admitting that he had _indeed_ considered such a relationship and that he didn't really _hate_ the idea. Of course, he didn't think it was a great option, but compared to the other ways of handling the delicate situation he'd put himself into, it certainly seemed the least painful. The upside to his confession would be that it would look like he'd truly done his best to find a solution with regards to the problem. The downside would be that he might be seen as an _actual_ womanizer by two women that he cherished.

On the other hand, he could lie. The upside being that he would save himself the disgusted looks from both Hestia and Scáthach, which would definitely be a good morale boost. If there was a downside, he couldn't think of any in that moment. Therefore, his choice was a clear and easy one to make.

"I… had honestly never really thought about something like that," Percy said while shaking his head.

' _A load of bullshit!'_

"But… I guess now that you mention it… uh… Scáthach, what do you think?" The young man turned to his friend.

"I can't say that the idea is to my pleasure," the woman answered stoically. She turned to face Hestia with narrowed eyes. "You did this on purpose didn't you?"

For her part, the Goddess of the Hearth simply shrugged her shoulders and stood up. "I wanted to give my nephew another option that could possibly save him from some pain. I do believe, with everything that's happened, Percy deserves something that would lessen the burden. If my suggestion helps in any way, shape, or form, then I can be satisfied with knowing he's happy. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be going back to Olympus to retire for the night."

Percy mirrored his aunt's motions and stood up. The two shared an embrace just as Sally made her way back into the room.

"Are you leaving, Hestia?"

The goddess turned around and nodded her head, a smile plastered on her face. "I am, yes. Thank you for your hospitality, Sally. It was a very pleasant dinner, and although the night didn't end on a very happy note, I can say that my domain of family flickers very brightly in this house now that Percy is back."

Sally bowed deeply. "Thank you, Lady Hestia. Thank you for bringing my baby back to me."

"He would have returned on his own eventually. I just helped to get him here a bit faster," the goddess responded nonchalantly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll return to Olympus for the night. Farewell, Percy, Sally… Scáthach. We'll see one another soon, I hope."

Hestia waved and walked out the front door, which Percy figured was so that she could teleport without worry of incinerating anybody.

"Does anyone else feel she has something against me?" Scáthach asked with a chuckle.

Percy rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I don't think it's anything serious. She's probably just worried since you _were_ the one to stab me through the chest our first meeting. Let's face it, that's not exactly how you want to be remembered."

Sally sighed and held up a box that had been in her hands. "I found an air mattress for you two. We just need to move the furniture and inflate it, then you should be good to go."

"Scáthach and I can do all that, Mom. You should get to bed, it's been a long day," Percy replied taking the box from his mother and placing it on the ground. "Don't worry about us, we'll be fine moving this stuff around."

With a tired nod, Sally gave her son another hug. "I love you. Don't forget to brush your teeth before bed. We should have some spare toothbrushes inside the bottom drawer in the bathroom. I left a pair of pajamas on the countertop in there as well, for both of you."

"Uh, sure thing. I love you too, Mom," Percy responded. The hug came to an end and Sally walked back to her room, closing the door softly behind her.

Percy and Scáthach looked at one another, shrugging at the same time as they went about rearranging the living room to give themselves more space. The mentor and student duo eventually finished their nightly routine, having brushed their teeth and changed into the pajamas that Sally had gotten out for each of them. Going through the mundane motions of preparing for bed together with Scáthach elicited a sense of surrealistic placidity for Percy. Just an hour earlier he had fought against Charlemagne, then he'd been confronted by Spenta Mainyu, his main target and the instigator of the new conflict.

It felt like two sides of a coin. Coming down from the rush of adrenaline and the furious haze that his mind had been clouded by left him feeling wary. Percy couldn't help but find the situation rather odd. The picture it painted in his brain was one of sunny domesticity; not the grueling and bitter fight that a war was supposed to represent.

"Off to bed then?" Scáthach's voice broke through the barrier of thoughts that had offended him only moments prior. Her voice cut the zeal and the part of him that nagged at his mind of the looming threat. When he locked eyes with her, a part of him felt relieved to know that even though the night had been a difficult one, she would―in the end―remain by his side as the day closed.

The son of Poseidon allowed a smile to stretch across his face. He knew it must have shown his exhaustion, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "Yeah, let's go."

* * *

' _Come on woman! Let me breathe a little at least!'_ Percy shifted slightly on the air mattress, pulling his face from his mentor's breast.

Soon after both he and Scáthach had gotten comfortable on their mattress, his mentor had pulled him closer to herself, practically turning Percy into a makeshift body-pillow. For a few relaxing minutes, the Greek hero had enjoyed the warmth that she provided, even going as far to lay one of his arms over her midriff.

Unfortunately, Percy's peace and comfort were not to last through the night, especially when his mentor started to dream about something―if her low murmurs could be trusted. It was then that her grip on him became vice-like. Such strength wouldn't have been too unwelcome had she not also pushed Percy's head into her chest while he was facing her.

Again, the son of Poseidon figured things were still going fairly well. Far be it for him to complain about the position. He had even managed to fall asleep for a decent amount of time. It was only when his breathing became labored that he realized the problem.

' _What a way to go. I mean… not a bad way… no… not at all. There are far worse ways to die, and I can't say I don't enjoy how soft they are. Still though, can't die quite yet.'_

The room was mostly dark, with faint lines of light breaking through the blinds from the streetlamps outside the complex. There were no noises other than the occasional whisper from Scáthach and her loud breathing. A few snores escaped her throat, though they weren't excessively thundering as some peoples could be.

Percy's eyes soon adjusted to the darkness. He blinked several times, before deciding that the need for water was impossible to ignore. Slowly, so as not to wake his sleeping partner, he removed himself from the mattress. Standing straight, the son of Poseidon felt something creep along his spine. A shiver ran through his body. The lights from outside dimmed, becoming almost nonexistent as their rays shrunk slowly, leaving more of the condo in the grips of the dark.

Percy glanced around the room and cracked his neck. He frowned and walked toward the kitchen. The hardwood creaked underfoot, groaning as he placed weight on it. The sound echoed throughout the area, pulsing as it reverberated and rebounded off the walls and any plane it came into contact with. Even with his socks on, Percy felt the cold seep through the fabric and onto the bottom of his feet.

His joints felt stiff, even as they moved in response to his desires.

Shadows cast from the streetlight lengthened as the Greek hero plodded down the hallway. Soon, no light reached where he walked, enshrouding him in the inky black. Percy moved quickly and slipped into the kitchen. Taking note that it was nearly three in the morning, he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Something ghastly and intangible slithered up his chest, and the young man cleared his throat as a cough nearly escaped him.

Finding a glass for himself, Percy poured himself some water from a pitcher in the refrigerator.

As he closed the fridge door, the light from inside illuminated something on the edge of his vision. Percy moved and placed his glass down, picking up a piece of cardstock that had been left on the countertop. Frowning, he realized that there was nothing written on the cardstock. He went to place it down, only to see bright red scribbles light up the entirety of the paper.

The script burned itself into the paper, sending the scent of sulfur and burning rubber into the air. Smoke billowed from the small parchment, causing Percy to quickly drop the paper with a string of whispered profanities.

The paper fell back onto the counter. The red light soon began to die down and the smoke soon dissipated along with it. Eventually, the script on the cardstock was completed with nothing further appearing. Percy stared suspiciously for several moments, a frown marring his features as dread clenched his heart. He swallowed thickly, taking a fast swig from his water.

Without further preamble, the son of Poseidon towered over the letter, reading what was written without touching the paper.

 _To, Percy,_

 ** _Prepare to cross the Rubicon._**

 _Your friend,_

 _N._

 _P.S.- There's a surprise waiting. You just have to find it!_

 _P.P.S.- I hope your gynecologist appointment went well!_

Time stopped. Percy's eyes widened as he read the note over once again. A shiver scuttled down his spine, sending each nerve in his body spiraling into discomfort. Just as he went to pick the paper up, it burst into flames, erasing any evidence that he hadn't hallucinated everything.

Nothing remained of the letter, not even a pile of ashes. This time, the smell that filled the air was nothing short of repulsive. There was no way of placing any sort of description to it―other than ghastly and utterly toxic to the nose. Percy gagged and fell back, stumbling over his own two feet as he landed on the ground.

With watering eyes, the son of Poseidon dry-heaved onto the ground, clenching his hands as he fought the bile that nearly pushed its way out of his mouth.

Seconds passed as his senses returned to him, devoid of any detestable feelings. Percy gulped down the scent-free air that surrounded him. With a shake of the head, he rose from the cold floor. He looked at the counter top warily, his mind racing at the wording of the message.

Only one person that Percy had ever met was unstable enough to assume his sole reason for leaving Tartarus was to keep a gynecologist appointment. And only one person had ever mentioned that their name was 'N'.

It shouldn't have been possible. After all, Percy had seen N burn in the Phlegethon, screaming at the top of his lungs as the river of fire ate away at his skin. Even deities weren't immune to the effects of the five great rivers that flowed through the Underworld and into the heart of Tartarus. An example would be Bob―or rather, the former Titan, Iapetus―who Percy had thrown into the River Lethe, thus erasing the Titan's memories for a time.

Percy was sure that N wasn't a god. He was odd, certainly, but not powerful enough to be considered a deity. With that in mind, Percy couldn't really fathom how N had survived his dip in the Phlegethon. Then again, it wouldn't have been unprecedented for somebody to emerge from one of the rivers, even if they weren't a god. After all, Achilles, Luke, and then Percy himself had all gone for a swim in the River Styx and come out more powerful for it.

' _Apart from that…'_ Percy thought, gripping the edge of the countertop tightly. ' _What did he mean… prepare to cross the Rubicon? What the fuck is a Rubicon? Is it another version of a Rubik's Cube? Rubi Convention? Has he been following me? Why the hell is everybody I meet such a cryptic and mentally unsound person!?'_

The son of Poseidon stared at the glass of water that sat idly next to his hand. Suddenly, his heart skipped a beat.

' _How the fuck did this note get in here? What the fuck is the surprise!? Why does he sound like such a serial killer with that vague statement? And why the hell does he still think I had a gynecologist appointment!?'_

Whipping his head around, Percy scanned the area rapidly. With light steps, he walked out of the kitchen, moving through the condo hurriedly. His blood pounded as his breathing grew heavier. The floors no longer groaned under his weight, and the air felt warm, almost stifling.

He walked to his sister's door, slowly pushing it open with gentle care. The door opened softly, making no noise, allowing Percy to peek inside. A small nightlight was plugged into the wall next to his sister's bed. The soft yellow light gave Percy some form of comfort as he examined Tamara's room for anything out of the ordinary. Seeing that his sister was sleeping peacefully under her blankets, the hero sighed and closed her door.

Steeling himself again, Percy moved to the room his mother and Paul shared. He gripped the handle tightly, turning it with a shaking hand. The door gave way to his insistence. The room was far darker than Tamara's considering there was no form of light on. Try as he might, Percy couldn't make out what lay inside the room. Coming to a decision, the young man entered his parents' room soundlessly, eyes moving around the four corners rapidly.

Crossing the distance of the room, Percy reached the edge of the bed without trouble. With him so close to them, he could make out the faces of his mother and Paul. They both were sleeping peacefully, indicated by the rise and fall of their chests. He let go of a relieved sigh once again. With a shake of his head, he left the room.

Percy quirked his brow as he thought about what the surprise could have been. Thankfully it hadn't involved his family or Scáthach. He dreaded the thoughts that lurked within his mind with regards to their safety. While N had never seemed particularly violent, the phrasing in the message was far too eerie and unnerving to brush aside. He'd already been forced to face those kinds of images during his time in Ahriman's care. Never would he want to see them again, be they real or otherwise.

Pressing his back against the wall and running a hand through his hair, he rested his eyes for a few moments. He was still tired, but his mind was racing. Sleep would be difficult if he didn't find out what the supposed surprise was. Pushing himself forward, Percy walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and flipping on the light.

Once inside, he settled himself near the sink, placing his hands on either side of the porcelain basin. Letting out a huff of annoyance the young man turned the cold water on. He splashed his face a few times, wiping the freezing water across his skin, relishing in the slight shock it gave his nerves. Grabbing a towel, the young man dried himself, staring at the long mirror displayed over the dark oak vanity. His reflection peered back at him, looking weary from the poor rest he'd gotten. Percy raised a skeptical eyebrow at his mirror-image. The young man pushed himself away from the counter and shook his head.

Moving to turn around and exit the bathroom, he stopped when the mirror began to shimmer. The surface of the glass rippled like water being disturbed on a lake's surface, undulating and rolling without restraint. Before Percy could think to react, bright red writing, much like that on the letter in the kitchen, lit up the entirety of the bathroom. From the floor to the walls, and even to the ceiling, the script could clearly be seen, burning itself into the each surface. No scent was emitted, which was appreciated by the young man, however, unease still covered his body like a winter coat.

The scorching words cleanly stopped glowing, giving Percy the ability to read what was scrawled all around him.

 ** _What is it you desire most?_**

He paused, staring at the words as if they were written in an alien language. His eyes scanned the walls, seeing the damning question scribbled everywhere he looked. Every turn he made was met with the condemnation that his own mind brought about. It felt like an accusation, written so clearly in such a beautiful style. In that moment, there was no reason for him to avoid introspecting. Or perhaps it was the perfect reason to do , honestly, couldn't tell.

Or perhaps it was the perfect reason to do so. Percy, honestly, couldn't tell.

Then again, nothing was ever made clear to him. The world and those who inhabited it clearly enjoyed watching him flounder about with the little morsels of information that were ever given to him.

Percy wondered if what he wanted was genuine. He knew that he was in a catch-22. He wanted to save people, but in order to do that, he placed himself in the most danger. That, in turn, led to people becoming angry with him. He placed his needs below theirs, and in turn disregarded their own care for his safety. It clearly hurt them, seeing him in pain and injured. Eventually, they might end up leaving him, so that they wouldn't have to bear that sort of emotional trauma. And therein lie the crux of the problem. The reason he was selfless when it came to them, was so that he could be selfish for himself. He saved people so that they would stay with him, giving him something that was inexplicable to even him. If him saving people only led to them leaving him, then his efforts were a trial of vanity.

Truly, his predicament was a catch-22.

He hated it.

When it came to it though, there was one thing he wanted, the true reason for everything. Beyond all else, he supposed, he was always fighting blindly for something that he might never be able to have. Perhaps it was never meant for him. If that were the case, he could accept that, if only he knew the reason why. But, slowly, he was coming to the conclusion that there was no greater reason. That all things ended with utter chaos, just as they had started. If only he could be completely and unquestionably…

If only he could be completely and unquestionably…

"Happy." Percy's voice seemed to echo throughout the small bathroom. He stared directly at the moving mirror, deciding to answer to the best of his ability. "I want to be happy. I want to know what it's like to be undeniably happy, what it means exactly, without any sort of worry in my life. And if I've already found it, I want to know, so that I can stop looking."

The writing faded from the walls in their entirety. The mirror's undulations slowed as if pondering his answer. Percy watched with fascination as the mirror stopped moving completely before the image shown was not a reflection, but rather something different. It was like staring at a picture, one that moved slowly as he watched.

Moving back toward the counter, Percy peered closer at the foreign image directly in front of him. Before he could understand what he was staring at, a long, rippling, mucus-covered tentacle shot from out of the glassy surface of the mirror, wrapping itself around Percy's arm. The son of Poseidon had enough time to widen his eyes as he was pulled into the mirror, taken from the world he knew.

* * *

Hot.

It was insufferably hot.

Too damn hot.

Opening his eyes, Percy noted that all he saw was rock. In fact, all he tasted was rock, since he was face-down on what appeared to be, in fact, a rock.

Pushing himself off the ground, he stood while blinking rapidly. The heat was still absolutely stifling, but he had opted to push the discomfort into the back of his mind. His sea-green eyes scanned where he was, and soon, he came to a very important realization.

There was no way he was on Earth.

After all, the Earth did not sport massive, island-sized formations of rock that simply disregarded the rules of gravity, floating in the air, far above a chasm of light-red mist. As far as he could tell, there was no 'solid' ground. The floating islands were all that could be seen, apart from the occasional bolt of green lightning that arced through the heavens. As far as he could stare, there also lingered the red mist, not too dissimilar from what was in Tartarus.

Percy allowed himself to sigh loudly. Even with everything that had happened, there would always be something new for him to get sucked into. This time, however, it happened in a far more literal sense than he'd expected.

The young man walked to the edge of his personal island, which was far smaller than some of the others that lazily made their way around his, intent on finding a way to escape the hellscape he'd been pulled into. Looking down, he saw nothing but the red mist, only broken by the constant white spots littered throughout the skies. It was almost as if somebody had pumped a completely white room full of red gas.

Scooting away from the edge, he materialized Algos, prepared for whatever may come his way. On the furthest side of his small island rested a massive statue, easily reaching thirty feet into the air. The red mist that surrounded it made discerning the features difficult, however, it appeared to be a representation of somebody sitting on a throne. Making his way toward the monument, Percy closed the distance, allowing him to see more of the statue.

Percy's face twisted in disgust as he saw the depiction that lay before him.

It was an abomination of the highest degree he could ever imagine. Several long, scarred, gnarled tentacles protruded from a thick cylindrical body. From those longer tentacles, a few smaller and thinner ones sprouted out in every direction, lying flat and unmoving.

It was only when he looked closer that Percy realized he wasn't looking at a statue, but rather a living creature.

Scabs oozing green-yellow pus and dark red blood covered much of the monstrosity. Beneath the pus, Percy could make out that the flesh of the creature was a light pink color. The thick, glutinous pus slowly trailed down its body, moving over the ridges of each tentacle with painfully pronounced eagerness. Mouths, too many to count and in a variety shapes and sizes also littered the creature's form. Each mouth was filled with rows upon rows of teeth, though there was no uniformity to be mentioned. Some mouths had shark teeth in them, others fangs like spiders, and others still with human-like molars.

As the pus slid down its body, any mouth that was in close proximity would open, allowing for the viscous liquid to flow easily inside. Occasionally, barbed tongues would flick out of a certain mouth, lapping up some of the pus while also lacerating the creatures rough skin, causing even more bleeding. Percy noticed that those particular wounds closed quickly, though, even if they were reopened soon thereafter. Sprouting from the cylindrically shaped torso were two, thin, arms that stretched out to either side, resting on the arms of the stone throne where the creature sat. The monstrosity's arms, when compared to the tentacles, looked laughably unimpressive, if not for their length. Each hand ended with four claws, which took the place of fingers altogether.

Following the creature's torso up, Percy saw the body was like one long tentacle itself, with a tapering end the further Percy moved his eyes upward. Large swaths of flesh seemed to be rotting off of the abomination as well. Patches of the pink flesh were slowly turning gangrenous, blackening with hints of green tinging the frayed edges. From the bottom of the torso grew three legs. One leg ended with a hoof, another ended with a webbed duck foot, the last ending with a point, much like a spider leg.

With a deep and revolted shiver, he stepped back from the abomination that sat before him. Other than the mouths that lapped up the leaking pus, the creature was still. Green lightning flashed behind Percy, illuminating the monstrosity with a sickly light.

It was then that it moved.

The torso shifted slightly, and Percy had the impression that the creature's attention was now solely focused on him. On instinct, the son of Poseidon stepped back. His nerves were alight with misplaced anticipation, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat from the heat. He swallowed heavily, biding his time in case of aggression from the horror that sat only a dozen feet away.

"What would you do for your desire to be granted?"

The voice that reached Percy's ears was enough to send him crashing to his knees. The words seared themselves into his memory. The dark, deep, terrifying, crushing timbre sent his brain into overdrive as it tried to process just how _anything_ could sound so horrific. Even Kronos' voice, when Percy had first heard it, paled in comparison to what had been spoken just moments earlier. The burning pain from his ears soon became an icy grip that clutched his brain.

While it wasn't the worst pain Percy had ever felt―not by a long shot―the sheer sway that the voice held was enough to strike terror, pure and unadulterated, into his very being. What truly gave Percy pause, though, was how casually the words had slithered from the creature. The tone of voice was horrid, and the weight associated with them was without a doubt terrifying, yet it was all said with unexpressive neutrality. There was practically no inflection, it was a simple question, like commenting on something completely mundane. He truly feared what the abomination could do when it wanted to intimidate people.

With wavering courage, the young man stood from his kneeling position, not allowing himself to be prostrated any longer.

"Anything," he responded, sounding meeker than he would have liked. His eyes didn't linger long on the pus-covered being before him. Instead, they fell to the foot of the stone throne, staring intently at nothing in particular. There was very little in the world that could have convinced him to move his eyes back to their original position. Unfortunately, one of those things was sitting in front of him.

"Do not look away when addressing me," the abomination called to him. It spoke all of its words slowly, the guttural rumble tumbling through the void with certainty and careful intent. There was no reason for the creature to rush itself in speech, and each syllable was heavier than the sky had ever been.

Instead of collapsing, Percy's knees merely buckled, though he held himself upright against the voice. The pain and pressure had both lightened significantly, which he was thankful for. Gritting his teeth, the son of Poseidon shifted his gaze back to the tentacle rich body. There were no eyes on the creature's form, making it difficult to find something to focus on instead of the gnashing mouths and the leaking scabs. Eventually, he gathered his wits to speak out once again.

"I'd do anything for my own happiness," Percy replied shakily.

The abomination was silent for several seconds. When it spoke again, it's voice sounded somewhere between pleased and curious. "Your loved ones. Your happiness stems from them, does it not? This is the reason you fight for them, is it not?"

Percy nodded slowly. "I would like to think so. I… can't say for certain though. I don't know what real happiness is… and I'm afraid that nobody could ever tell me so that I can find it."

The horror shuddered as it answered. "Happiness is what you make of it. Every sentient being has the possibility to find their own happiness. The term, however, can be subject to the person. For some, they find happiness in the bottom of a bottle of alcohol. Others find their happiness in the suffering of those around them. Some are content with receiving affection from family and friends. In the end, it is simply a choice. Positivity can lead to happiness. If one is positive of themselves and of the world around them, there is a greater chance to find peace within oneself and to ultimately become happy. Choice is the determining factor in the universe. It is the epitome of freedom."

Pondering on the creature's words, Percy bit his lip. "Are you telling me that it's my choice whether or not I'm happy? That there is no definitive answer out there?"

"Some may believe there is an answer, true and straightforward. You can choose whether to take my word or not. That, in and of itself, is the wonder of the universe. Your own choice, which can lead to happiness or not. When it comes down to it, you always have a choice. Even if one of those choices ends your life, happiness can still come prior to the end. It will always be fleeting, the feeling of being happy. _That_ is what makes it so sought after. Suffering is in abundance, happiness is much more elusive," the eldritch abomination rumbled.

"I see," Percy's subdued reply was barely audible. "I… I like being selfish. I like having people to support me, to show me their love and their affection. I like laughing with them, hugging them, being around them. I suppose that's happiness for me."

"With that in mind, losing them would be devastating," the abomination stated. "Fighting to keep them with you is what drives you to greater heights. If selfishness brings you happiness, why deny it? Your choice, that is all that matters. If, in the end, you choose something else, then at least you had an option."

The son of Poseidon glanced around him, before turning his attention back to the horror that was giving him life advice. "Who are you? Why are you telling me all of these things? And where the hell are we?"

The horrific creature shuddered once more, a tense silence descending upon the two that stretched for an awkward amount of time. Percy nervously took a few steps back when the creature shifted on its stone throne. Finally, after nearly a full minute of non-response, the abomination answered.

"I am a true being of chaos. Unlike she who you call such, my sole interest is in instigating chaos where I tread. The creator deity is named _Chaos_ , however, she was given the name by others who knew nothing of what it truly entailed. I, however, am intimately aware of the truth of chaos. If I voiced my name, your sanity would erode within the instant. I would rather you remained fully rational for the future, and as such, you shall not learn my name, not from me. I have many aliases, however, used in hushed whispers by those mortals who revere and worship, praising me as the one true chaos of this reality. A curious thing, really, the mortal comprehension. It amuses me, yet also revolts me to an extent. Perhaps I cannot cast blame on you all, though, considering the shoddy workmanship that was cause of your creation. Perhaps, if the desire ever strikes me, I will guide your mind to the conclusion of what I _truly_ am. For now, you will be content with knowing that I am attempting to aid you."

Percy took the answer and filed it away for later. He nodded at the creature. "That's one question down, two more to go."

The horror's typical unhurried and careful speech echoed across the entirety of the landscape. "I gave you my own form of wisdom so that I could invite chaos. The reasoning is simple, which in itself, is complex. Choice always brings chaos. Freedom is the purest form of chaos, after all. To act as one pleases, without regard for regulations, rules, obstacles, is breaking order. Many argue that conflict breeds chaos. This is not so. Chaos is _choice_. Whether for peace or for conflict. Chaos is _desire_. Whether for love or for hate. Chaos is _freedom_. Allowance to do as one pleases. There is no such thing as order, only a more complacent form of chaos. I govern these truths. I occasionally guide the chaos. Admittedly, I have little interest in you or your actions, however, it is for that reason I aided you. Such a boring human, I wonder what will become of you now? I took it upon myself to free you because of how little you piqued my interest."

With a nod, Percy contemplated the words no further, understanding most of what was being relayed to him. "Okay, I guess that makes sense when you look at it from a certain point of view. Last question: where are we?"

"Welcome to your soul."

Percy looked around lazily, nodding his head as he held his chin with one hand. "Well, fuck. This place is actually shit." He sighed heavily and gave a rueful smile. "Could definitely use some renovations… gonna have to stop at a home improvement store sometime soon." Moving his attention back to the abomination in front of him, the son of Poseidon shrugged softly. "Welp, guess there's nothing else to it then. One last question. Are you involved with N?"

"An avatar of sorts. A shard, the merest of fractions of my essence, placed inside a container. My voice to you. N has served well in that regard."

"No surprise there," Percy muttered to himself. "Alright then. Thanks for the advice… uh… whatever your name is. How do I get out of here, though?"

The being of chaos said nothing, instead opting to move forward in its throne. Percy barely had time to react as one of the abomination's massive claws touched the side of his face. His world exploded with pain almost immediately, resonating through his entire body, leaving the son of Poseidon weak in all areas. Algos fell from his grasp and he reached up to grasp at his right temple, which sourced the suffering that tore at his mind like a frenzied beast.

Percy managed to rip his gaze from the floor to look at the monstrosity sitting before him. He wanted to speak, to say something against the creature, however, no words left his mouth. Instead, he clamped down on his mental barriers, fighting the urge to scream out.

"You didn't believe my advice came free of costs, did you? When asked what you desired most, you responded vehemently about wanting to know happiness. I gave you an answer, and you know what it means, indebting yourself to me. You have now paid your dues. Begone, mortal." The horror said, waving one hand at Percy, who soon found his vision completely engulfed in light.

* * *

Cold.

His face was too damn cold.

Percy groaned into the cold tile that his cheek was caressing. The bright fluorescent light burned his retinas mercilessly.

Garnering his bearings, the young man rolled over onto his back and heaved out a long-suffering breath. Making no move to close his eyes, instead, he allowed the piercing light to invade every inch of his vision, causing no small amount of discomfort. The cold tile no longer affected his cheek, yet it could still be felt on his back through the thin shirt he was wearing. Unfortunately, it only served to send his brain on a dizzying journey of chaotic signals. He could still feel the lingering heat from being inside of his―admittedly hellish―soul.

He found the descriptor apt, however, due to meeting the abomination focused on chaos. In a way, it only made sense for his senses to be thrown into a chaotic state, even if the reaction wasn't a direct effect of the monstrosity itself.

Idly, Percy wondered what the name of the abominable creature was. While he could appreciate not being reduced to an incoherent, blubbering mess due to insanity, the son of Poseidon was sure that an alias could have been provided. After all, the creature had stated that many used those aliases when worshiping him. They were mortal, he was mortal, so there really shouldn't have been a problem if the abomination had told him one of those many aliases.

They were mortal, he was mortal, so there really shouldn't have been a problem if the abomination had told him one of those many aliases.

Without further contemplation, Percy stood up, rolling his shoulders, which felt especially tense. There was another feeling, this one more of a vacant itch, close to his hairline on the right side of his skull. He went to scratch at it, only for his fingers to freeze upon feeling sunken and tender skin. Opting to use a hand mirror this time instead of the full-length, Percy stared at his right temple.

A mark, sinking into his skin like a nasty scar, took residence where he was looking. The skin around and of the mark was an angry red color, indicating the irritated area. The car itself was shaped similarly to three question marks in a triskele formation, with the tittle being shared between each question mark. Or perhaps it was three meat-hooks around a dot. Either way, it certainly didn't look pretty, considering how noticeable it was.

When he examined the scar closer, he wondered if such a thing could ever heal normally. He was already attempting to close it with his curse, though, it was proving a futile effort.

His mom would have a field day when she saw the new scar. Scáthach too, as he thought of the situation more. In fact, he realized that everybody would probably comment on it, considering how blatant it was displayed. It was impossible to miss, after all, given its location, depth, and color. Percy looked at the scar on the inner part of his forearm which represented the Algiz rune. Magic was a strange thing, rune magic not excluded. The Algiz scar was nowhere near as bad as the new one on his face.

"Well great, just wonderful. That thing only focused on one part of my desire, forcing me into a debt without my knowing. Crafty bastard," the son of Poseidon muttered, tentatively poking at the new scar. "How the hell is this scar payment though? Must be something. Or maybe it just enjoyed my suffering…"

"The mark serves a variety of purposes, though, in this case, it mainly signals that he stole your face, monsieur" a voice with a peculiar and noticeable French accent called out, causing Percy to snap his head toward the bathtub.

There, he saw a silvery-blue barracuda, swimming lazy circles in the tub which hadn't been full just a minute ago. The barracuda paused, staring at Percy for a few moments before returning to its swim. A long moment of silence passed, nothing else being said and the only noise being an occasional splash of the water.

Percy blinked slowly, before he started to chuckle. "Nope, I'm not dealing with this tonight. First a tentacle monster, then a talking barracuda. No, not happening, I'm done. This isn't real, it's all just a really bad dream. Yeah, a dream, let's go with that," His voice rang out, sounding close to hysterical.

"It's quite rude to ignore the advice of somebody here specifically to help you, monsieur," the barracuda said again, this time pausing it's swim completely as it addressed the distressed young man. "The mark acts as both payment and a form of recognition. Should any of his followers see that mark, they will more than likely sanctify the ground you walk on. After all, it shows that you made contact with the Face Eater, who they are servile to. Undoubtedly, your appearance to them would be thought of as divine favor in return for their loyalty."

"...Ignoring the _other_ question that's begging to be asked, what do you mean he stole my face? I'm pretty sure it's still right here where it's always been," Percy replied, having accepted the talking barracuda with only slight worry of mania.

The barracuda seemed to nod its head. "Oui, that may be the case, however, do not underestimate the Faceless Wanderer. He _did_ take your face, and he _will_ use it eventually for his own reasons. Best not think much of it, considering that the only lasting damage to your person is the mark now on your temple."

"Faceless Wanderer, Face Eater…" Percy mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. "Those must be a few of his aliases. You must know his real name then, right?"

"I do," the fish responded slowly. "There would be little point in keeping the truth from you. It is unfortunate, then, that I will not tell you. To do so might only lead you into despair and hopelessness, something that I wish to avoid if at all possible."

The young man ran a hand through his hair with frustration. "For my own good? Great, so even more questions piling on top of one another. Another problem to worry about it seems."

"Non. Gauntice Flag, he whom we speak of, will more than likely keep his presence to a minimum. While he does enjoy to interfere on occasion, he seems somewhat unperturbed by this conflict. If he has no interest, then he will not act. For that, we should be grateful, mon ami."

Percy nodded his head quickly, hoping that what the barracuda was saying was true. "That would make my life at least ten times less stressful. So, how did you get in here?"

"The mark. I felt it call, and I knew then that there was another being in need of my assistance. Questions needed to be answered, and so I did answer them. Fears were assuaged, hopefully to the best of my ability," the barracuda responded calmly as it began to swim around the tub again. "I would like to impart more advice. Rest for the night. You seem tired, which is not surprising given a meeting with Gauntice Flag. Why not indulge in sleep while you can?"

The young man stared at the fish for a few more moments, before he gave a yawn while shrugging his shoulders. "Good idea. It's been a _long_ fucking day. I guess this is where we part ways then…" With a skeptical eyebrow raised, he looked at the animal oddly. "You… aren't gonna still be there when my parents wake up, right?"

"Worry not, I will be departing soon enough. This container is far too small for my liking, making me only the more eager to return to open waters. One last thing to remember, though. Freedom is chaos, choice is chaos, and chaos is the only truth." The barracuda concluded seriously.

Percy frowned. "Right, I'll be sure to remember that. Thank you, Bathtub Barracuda."

With that, the young man left the bathroom, turning the light off as he went. Creeping through the quiet condo, he made his way back into the living room trying not to disturb those still sleeping. He glanced at a wall clock on the way and was glad to discover that there were still several more hours until sunrise.

His sleep, however, was haunted by the smell of sulfur, suffocating heat, and flashes of green lightning, all a backdrop for a collection of horrific maws that jeered at him without remorse.

* * *

 **A/N: There was a lot of heavy-handed narration this chapter in the form of Percy's introspection. Since I made a note of it, yes, it was intentional. This chapter fully focuses on Percy, and through my narration, I wanted to encapsulate just a tad of the general feel through words. This chapter also serves as a major step in Percy's development as a whole. The abomination Percy met is a god, though, a slightly more obscure one that gained popularity within the past century. I've dropped clues as to his real identity, though, it isn't supposed to be a huge reveal or anything. I don't intend on using him often.**

 **Oh, and Hestia dropping the idea for polyamory. Things are chugging along on all fronts.**


	16. Don't Let the Sun In Your Heart Decay

**AN: Chapter 16. Not much to say, I suppose. A few people guessed who the abomination was. Since it was never meant to be a huge reveal in terms of importance (his role is not one to be overplayed) the eldritch horror was indeed an Outer God from Lovecraftian (et al.) mysticism. I hinted at him when N spoke to Percy about his master earlier in the story, too, with more of his aliases being spoken then. It was riddled into N's manic speech pattern. I was thinking about starting another story, smaller in scale than this, with Lovecraftian (et al.) mythology taking a bigger role. We'll see on that front though.**

 _ **Reviews-**_

 **Death Fury: Thanks.**

 **Trigger-Happy Texan: I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter, and the story as a whole. I'm glad I can make the story pop off the page, so to speak. Once again, thanks for pointing out the formatting errors last chapter. Not sure what went wrong there, but I don't think it happened this chapter. Thanks for the review!**

 **divineboss2000: Thanks for the kind words! You are correct in assuming the abomination is an Outer God. For your question, yes, marginally but he is stronger than Chaos (Greek). Once again thanks for the review!**

 **Shigure Toshiro: Glad you liked the chapter. Close on the identity of the abomination, at least in terms of pronunciation, but he is a Lovecraftian deity. Thanks for the review!**

 **justafan: I'm glad you liked the chapter. The abomination isn't Cthulhu, though they are distantly related in a way. Sorry to disappoint, but if I were going to use a major idea like Reality Marbles from the Nasuverse, I'd have put this in the cross-over section, so I don't want to muddy up the plot with something as outlandish as forcing one's own inner truth onto the metaphysical plane. At least, not with this story. And your right that Scathach is getting slightly impatient, but I feel it's justified. Thanks for the review!**

 **themagicplok: Got it in one. Thanks for the review by the way!**

 **Gabriel H. Sapphire: The abomination is a creation of Lovecraft, so you're on the right track. Cthulhu is distantly related to the character. Cthulhu is a Great Old One, were as the abomination is an Outer God.**

 **Mangahero18: Some people could argue this deserves to be a cross-over, and some others would argue against it. I've seen plenty of people say that even if the main character from another story is put into the universe of a different story, it wouldn't be considered a cross-over. Not just one person, but multiple people have this same view. Personally, I believe that major characters and ideas unique to one story being introduced into another qualifies as a cross-over. If I had introduced the concepts of Reality Marbles, and only that, into this story, then I would have put it as a cross-over, because that is something I believe can solely be attributed to the Nasuverse. Scathach and Angra Mainyu are both from myth and religion already established in history. Technically, this story is a big cross-over with many of the world's religions, if you want to look at it that way. You're definitely right about the plot becoming convoluted. As a plain, bare-bones outline, it seemed much more straightforward. When I added details, things seemed to have gone off the rails. Thanks for the review(s).**

 **Disclaimer: I do not make any money off this work of fanfiction. All rights for the characters in Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus go to Rick Riordan and all who were involved in the creation of the novels.**

* * *

16\. Don't Let the Sun In Your Heart Decay

* * *

The night had been a long one.

There had been no peace for Percy when he'd finally drifted off to sleep, once again having been reintroduced into Scáthach's arms. The embrace had been nice, though he'd decided to turn over and face away from his mentor, just so he wouldn't pass to Elysium during the night.

Instead, he played the small spoon between the two, having felt Scáthach push her body up against his back. After his nightmares subsided, Percy felt no real desire to fall back to sleep, and so he simply lay in the arms of his romantic interest.

He relished the feel of her warm breath tickling the base of his neck, where her own head was slightly buried. One of her hands was on his stomach, which he was softly caressing with his own fingers, running his thumb in gentle circles.

For about an hour, Percy allowed himself to happily rest with his friend, feeling electricity run through his spine every time he felt her move. As she nuzzled her head further against his neck, the young man allowed himself to shiver slightly, a pleasurable tingle spreading through his body. He swallowed heavily, mind wandering to aspects of his relationship with the most influential women in his life.

He and Annabeth had never moved very far in terms of sexual intimacy. They'd been too wrapped up in world-threatening conflicts to properly develop their relationship that way. After the Second Gigantomachy, things hadn't gone smoothly in the slightest. She'd been involved with her new titles as a goddess and he'd been relegated to deal with his problems in self-imposed turmoil. He knew that her work kept her happy, even though there was always the pain of knowing their relationship was straining.

Even so, Annabeth had stayed with him through his nightmares and his troubled time, though it was at a distance. He still managed to garner the feeling of being loved by her, mostly through encouraging words and the way her eyes lit up whenever they _did_ see one another. Percy knew that Annabeth loved him deeply. He also knew that she had no clue on how to help him, so she chose to let him sort the problems out on his own. It was her own form of trust in him.

Of course, since she had put some distance between them, she also couldn't see that nobody else was moving to help. In the end, Percy couldn't properly blame Annabeth for anything that happened. She tried, he refused to talk, that was that.

He and Scáthach, on the other hand, were a bit more intimate than he'd ever been with Annabeth. Most of that was due to the witch's own insistence on becoming closer through "trust-related experiences". These experiences, however, usually came in the form of massages, most of which were performed on Scáthach by Percy. She had attempted to return the favor but the son of Poseidon shut those recommendations down with… some… reluctance.

Sure, he wanted to sort out his own feelings first, but lust was not an easy compulsion to ignore when it could be so easily indulged.

Now, as Percy felt her breasts nudging against his back and her mouth pressing to his neck, he fought desires that had gone unfulfilled for years. The memory of her lips moving on his own from several days ago came to his mind, unbidden and crashing onto him like a wave. When he thought about those acts, he wondered how he could have passed something like that up for years.

It was a feeling that he wouldn't forget soon.

He didn't know the science behind kissing somebody else and why it felt so damn good, but he figured that it was just another thing he'd go his life without discovering. In the end, it didn't matter to him anyway. He'd made his choice in not pursuing his friend and mentor sooner, which apparently only served to delay him of happiness.

The choices he made always seemed to be wrong in retrospect.

Yet, those choices were what gave him the ultimate freedom, if the tentacle-monster was a source to be believed. While they may have seemed incorrect when looking back, he knew that through those choices came the greatest form of true expression. Those choices marked who he was, what he was, and they would go on to build the person he was and would become. If his happiness was found simply by choosing to be positive with who he was and the situation he was in, then maybe―just maybe―it had never been out of his reach. The truth, while a bitter pill to swallow, could have been right in front of his face his whole life.

' _Positivity about myself and my situation. Is my situation really all that bad?'_ Percy questioned, frowning as he pondered. ' _No, it isn't all that bad. Sure, I'm being used as a weapon again, but I have people who care about me. Who love me even now. Scáthach, Annabeth, Thalia, Mom, Paul, Tamara, Dad. They all care about me, that much I know. So do I have any right to make them miserable because I'm too selfish to take their own feelings into consideration?'_

He wanted to snort at the thought. The answer was not an easy one to admit to himself. As much as he wanted to say it, he struggled to accept such a truth. He didn't want to hurt them, but his life was never worth their own. It was probably a bitter pill for them to swallow, however, he couldn't bring himself to think otherwise.

If he died, then he could go for rebirth, bathe himself in the River Lethe and forget about his past life completely. He wouldn't have to live with that kind of pain, knowing that he'd left them behind to live life without him.

He truly was… a cowardly man.

' _One step at a time. I don't know if I can accept myself quite yet. Not completely. For now, I should focus on the situation. I'm split between three. Can I be happy knowing that if I choose just one, the other two might be hurt? No, I don't think I could be. But, there's always a choice to be made, and in this situation, a solution was given to me by Aunt Hestia. It's selfish on my part, I know that. But don't I deserve to be happy too? It would be the best outcome, where every party could have accomplished what they wanted, though it would have a stipulation attached. If positivity is what leads to happiness, then I'll do my damnedest to help myself. Nobody else leads my life, so it's up to me.'_

With his resolve cemented, Percy pulled Scáthach's arm away from his body and shifted away from her. He stood up, stretching as the first tendrils of sunlight snaked their way through the blinds. Blinking and rubbing his eyes, the young man felt his knuckles graze the new scar on his temple. With a tired sigh he walked into the kitchen, knowing that as soon as his mother saw it, she would damn near have an aneurysm.

* * *

 _With Thalia…_

Burying her head deeper into her pillow, she hoped to block out the annoying buzzing of a certain little fly. The daughter of Zeus clenched her fist, balling up the sheets of her bed, a low growl escaping her throat as she moved again. Unfortunately, it seemed that there would be no relief gained by acting immature and ignoring her problems.

"Lieutenant? Lieutenant, there's somebody at the door for you," Celeste, one of Thalia's closest friends within the hunt shook her arm lightly. "C'mon Lieutenant, it's not a boy, and she doesn't seem like the type to leave easily or quietly."

Thalia grumbled lightly as she rolled over onto her back, glaring at Celeste. "What have I told you about calling me Lieutenant when we aren't hunting?"

The other girl tapped a finger to her chin thoughtfully. Celeste's chocolate-brown eyes went to the roof of the cabin, before she shrugged casually, a smirk playing at her lips. "Not to do so."

"Then why," Thalia's tired voice began. "Are you doing it right now?"

"Because I knew that it would annoy you," Celeste chirped with a cheerful bounce. "It was the best way of grabbing your attention and making you actually do something. I figured you wouldn't want to actually get up so early, especially since you weren't in the best mood yesterday."

For her part, Thalia simply closed her eyes again. It was true that she hadn't been particularly cheerful the day prior, but she didn't think it had been so easily noticed. Of course, it wasn't easy for her to put on a stoic face for the world to see. She liked to show her feelings outright, wear her heart on her sleeve as some might put it. In that respect, Thalia had thought she was similar to Percy. Something about him in their last interaction, however, caused her to doubt the validity of such a statement.

"You incorrigible bitch," Thalia muttered, no heat or venom in her voice. She opened her eyes again and sighed loudly. "Who wants to talk to me this early anyway?"

"Well, Annabeth can be quite persistent when she sets her mind to something," Celeste replied with a shrug. "She doesn't have a problem waking up early in the morning to get stuff done it would seem. Besides, you were up bright and early yesterday morning. It's not like getting up right now is going to kill you."

The bed creaked as Thalia moved out of it. She looked at Celeste and rolled her eyes. "Guess there's no avoiding it then. Thanks for letting me know."

"No problem Lieutenant."

The daughter of Zeus pointedly ignored her friend, instead she went about pulling on a pair of loose black pants and boots. She looked down and decided that her shirt was still in fine condition for going out. With a nod, she grabbed the circlet that signified her rank in the Hunt and placed in on her head. Without further hesitation, the young woman moved to the door of the Artemis Cabin, where she and the Hunt were staying while at camp.

Stepping outside, she saw Annabeth leaning against the wall of the cabin, arms crossed as she stared at the rising sun.

For a moment, Thalia recalled the prior morning, when she had met Percy on the beach just as the sun was peaking over the water. It was a bit eerie how the two situations reflected one another. She let out a huff of air as the Goddess of Planning simply kept on staring into the distance, brooding expression in place.

Thalia's relationship with Annabeth was still one of sisterly compassion, however, for a while their interactions had been plagued by the aftermath of Percy's kidnapping. It had been a trying time for both of them, yet, instead of seeking comfort with somebody else who understood the pain of losing a close friend, Thalia had gone out of her way to admonish Annabeth for her treatment towards Percy.

The goddess, on the other hand, had done little but take the verbal reprimands with silent acceptance of her mistakes.

As time passed, Thalia had realized that there was no point in hurting her blonde friend with words. After all, no amount of scolding or reproachful comments would help bring their Seaweed Brain back home to them. As such, both women tried to put past grievances aside, though, it was still somewhat difficult for Thalia.

"Annabeth, you wanted to talk?" The dark-haired hunter asked as she approached the blonde. "What's so important that you didn't want to wait until, oh I don't know, after breakfast or something. Typically, it's polite to allow somebody the chance to at least _shower_ before a meeting."

"Sorry it's so early, but I was awake and I figured I should share a bit of that pain with you, Thals," Annabeth retorted as she pushed off the wall. "I did want to talk to you though. Care to take a small walk?"

With a shrug that showed her indifference, Thalia followed shortly after her friend. Annabeth walked through the mostly quiet camp, nodding at most of the people she did come across.

The duo soon made their way to the edge of the forest. The trees obscured some of the sunlight, casting the two in a comfortable shade as Annabeth stopped walking. The goddess turned around and dropped to the ground, sitting down with her back against a tree trunk. The forest was silent, with the nymphs still asleep and the monsters also apparently keeping to themselves.

Thalia wondered if both her and Annabeth's presence was a cause. Following her friend's lead, the hunter sat down on the grass, stretching her legs and leaning back to rest herself on her own chosen tree.

"Didn't you have something to talk about?" Thalia asked suddenly, picking at her fingernails lazily. "Or did you lead me out here just to stare passionately into my eyes?"

Annabeth's lip turned upward into a small smirk at the jibe. "Maybe I did just want to vacantly stare at your eyes. They always manage to make me shiver with how _shockingly_ blue they are."

"I didn't realize that you felt that way about me," the daughter of Zeus replied, her own mouth gaining a crooked smile. "I'm all for a little experimentation, but from what I understand you don't go either way."

"I don't remember ever telling you about my preferences," Annabeth retorted with a snort. "I've never tried anything with a woman, but that doesn't mean I don't recognize or feel lust toward a beautiful one every once in a while."

At the admission, Thalia arched an eyebrow. "Well, now isn't that a small tidbit of news. And who could it be that catches your eye then?"

The blonde hesitated, before sighing and shrugging her shoulders. "I may not like her very much, but I can't deny that Hera has a very nice figure. Her face is also something to look at. Artemis, of course, is stunning in all respects of the word. Well, when she decides to age herself up a little bit at least."

"Really? Lusting after my mistress? Oh how the mighty have fallen."

"And can you really say that you haven't seen how good she looks in just a tank top and shorts at those female-only soirée's she likes to throw on occasion?" Annabeth sniped back while rolling her eyes. "Seriously, she can look drop-dead gorgeous when she chooses to."

Thalia chuckled and shook her head. "Of course she can, she's a goddess. You've always looked good, but when you became a goddess there was definitely something more… _ethereal_ … about your beauty. I'm sure you could find somebody to do a little _experimenting_ with if you wanted to."

"Right, I'm sure I could, if I had wanted to," Annabeth said, her smirk leaving her face slowly.

"Let me guess, though. You didn't want to, otherwise, you'd feel guilty when you met him again," Thalia gave her friend a pointed look. A soft breeze wafted across the forest, blowing past the two as they sat in the shade of the trees.

For a moment, it didn't seem that Annabeth would reply. Eventually, though, she spoke out, pushing some of her blonde hair behind her ear. "Can't really hide anything from you, can I? No, I couldn't bring myself to satisfy my own urges after what happened with Percy. I knew that we'd meet again, eventually. It was like… an indescribable feeling always pestering me at the most inopportune moments, telling me not to lose hope. I guess, in the end, the feeling was right. He's back and here again. He's stronger, but something about him is… different."

The daughter of Zeus snorted softly. "I know what you mean. He seemed to be a bit more troubled than before. It's understandable, don't get me wrong, but still…" She sighed and caught a leaf that had fallen from the tree above her. "I can't help feel that he needs help. I don't know exactly with what, but the feeling is just… there. It's strange to think about, considering what he told us happened in Scotland. You'd probably never think that a person who can fight against a god on even footing would need help with anything."

"Well, even he can't fight against every threat he comes across," Annabeth shrugged. "I'm sure if he could, even now, he wouldn't be following the God of Evil. I hope he comes back to camp soon… it would be nice to just talk to him again. Maybe find out what's on his mind, how he's doing. It's been five years and we only spoke for a little less than an hour. It's frustrating… even if it is what I deserve."

The goddess stood up and wiped away some dirt from her shorts. Thalia did the same as Annabeth began to walk through the woods again, her eyes wandering across the sea of trees. The two had fallen in step, with Thalia deciding to continue their conversation even as they moved.

"I know what you mean. When I talked to him yesterday… well… I had the feeling that he was struggling with something more than what he told me. I was able to get a better look at who he really is through the way he talked about protecting the people he cares about. Not gonna lie, it wasn't exactly a healthy picture that got painted. He's… I mean… it's definitely odd, that's for sure. I can't really say anything other than that."

With a nod, Annabeth gestured helplessly. "I can see what you mean. It's just something that makes him who he is, though. In the end, if you take that protective nature away from him, I don't think that we'd have the same Percy as before. I couldn't even picture it, to be honest." The blonde paused and looked pensive for a moment, before she resumed her trek. "But aside from that, I did have something to ask you."

"Oh? Finally getting to the point of why you brought me out here so early then, eh?" The hunter quirked an eyebrow inquisitively. "Alright, I'm all ears."

Clearing her throat, the goddess went on to scratch at the back of her neck. "Well, I was wondering what you and Percy discussed yesterday."

Thalia shook her head. "A little nosy, aren't you? No offense Annabeth, but what he and I talked about really doesn't need to be shared."

"You've already told me a little, though," Annabeth argued, though it was apparent that she wasn't fully invested in getting answers. "You said that you guys talked about protecting people. From that, you didn't get a positive image."

The daughter of Zeus decided to relent slightly, if just to cut the questions off before they could even start flowing. "Yeah, but I'm not going to go into details of our discussion. All I'll say is that we had a decent amount of chuckles, then things got personal."

"I see. So he told you how he feels about you." The blonde said with certainty, grasping her chin with one hand.

Thalia felt her eyebrow twitch. While it was impressive that her friend managed to guess what had happened so quickly, she couldn't quite bring herself to praise the goddess. In the end, however, she realized that it was her own fault for even confiding just the slightest of morsels of information. A rueful chuckle made its way through her lips.

"Sometimes I think you're too smart for your own good, Annabeth."

That much was true. She'd always thought that the daughter of Athena was a bit of a know-it-all. On top of that, she had her pride, the fatal flaw of hubris, which was a bad companion for the abnormally intelligent. Percy had told Thalia the story of when Annabeth had almost gotten them eaten by a sphinx due to a trivia game.

The lieutenant of Artemis sighed loudly as her voice became wistful. "He told me that he loved me. It was weird hearing that coming from his mouth, but at the same time it gave me goosebumps. Of course, before that he gave me a quick run down on the stuff going on with you and the woman who stabbed him. In the end, I can understand how he got into the situation he's in."

A soft hum left Annabeth's throat as she cocked her head to the side. "Hm. So what did you tell him? I mean, he told you that he loved you, and what? I can already kinda guess how things played out, but hearing it from you would help give me a clear picture."

"I told him it wouldn't work out. Was there really any other option at that point?" The hunter shrugged, her chest clenching at the thought of rejecting her cousin.

"I can give you an answer to that if you tell me something first," The goddess of planning stated. She stopped walking once they reached the edge of the woods, where the cusp of the treeline was married to the sandy beach. Turning around to face Thalia, the blonde gave a pained smile, her eyes dropping to her feet. "Do you feel the same way for him?"

For a moment, the raven-haired hunter furrowed her brow. She bit her lip, chewing on it for a few seconds while she thought about how to answer. It was clear by Annabeth's expression that the blonde was uncomfortable with the insinuation, which didn't exactly inspire confidence into Thalia for answering honestly.

She didn't want to hurt the goddess.

Yet there was a part of her that wanted to admit it out loud to another person. For whatever reason, the feeling only grew the more she considered following through with her desire. Perhaps, in a way, it was a final way to strike a blow against Annabeth for her treatment of Percy. While the idea wasn't farfetched, it slightly disgusted Thalia that it ever crossed her mind. After all, there was no reason for retribution against the goddess anymore.

Percy had forgiven his paramour, which meant that she had no right to go after Annabeth. Admitting her romantic inclinations toward the son of Poseidon _just_ to spite the blonde goddess accomplished nothing.

In the long run, it would only prove to be detrimental for not only her own mental health, but that of Annabeth's, with effects rippling and maybe affecting Percy's own relationship as well. Thalia understood that she couldn't speak without considering how her words would be interpreted.

"I… Yeah… I do feel the same way for him," Thalia nodded slowly, scratching the back of her neck. "I had a lot of time to learn about his character, about who he is throughout the years, you know? I've been able to admire him ever since the quest we took with Zoë to stop Atlas. He really proved his mettle back then. Time and time again he managed to give me hope for a better future. He's an inspiration. When the war with Gaia ended and the Hunt went on to find new members, I could only hope that he would be able to relax after all he'd been through."

The hunter took a breath, seeing that Annabeth was waiting patiently for more information. A small, wistful chuckle left Thalia's mouth. "Too bad that I didn't come visit him sooner. It took four months for the Hunt to eventually return to Camp Half-Blood. And it was then that I saw him here… sitting on the beach… alone at night. Turned out he'd had a pretty ugly dream of his time in Tartarus. We talked, laughed, smiled… and in his eyes…"

She paused, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She shook her head and looked at the clouds in the distance which moved slowly across the sky. "In his eyes I could see him thanking me. I had no idea what for, but his expression made it pretty clear that he was thankful for me in that moment. Honestly, it made me a bit uncomfortable, so from then on I tried to get Artemis to visit camp more often. Each time I talked with Percy that same look was always sent my way in the end. I didn't really know what it was for but I went with it. I liked talking to him. His humor can be dry and dark at times, but light and cheerful at others. He's got a charisma about him that makes it almost impossible _not_ to like him."

Annabeth ducked her head, gray eyes moving to the sand below her shoes.

Thalia sighed loudly. "So now you know about my feelings toward him. You can probably also figure out why I told him it wouldn't work out between us. I'm a sworn hunter, and Artemis has turned unfaithful members into animals in the past. Not only that, but she would also probably try to kill or transform Percy as well, just out of principle. A pretty shitty way to end up, if you ask me."

The blonde goddess nodded in acceptance. "That's too true. I'd hate to have to go through that. Still though…" Annabeth peered intently at Thalia, her stormy eyes almost intimidating with their intensity. "That isn't the only reason you rejected him, is it? I'm pretty sure that Artemis would let you go if you told her how you feel about Percy. She loves you, a lot more than you might even realize. Not only that, but Percy can take care of himself against a goddess."

Thalia frowned. "I don't kn-"

"-Sure you do," Annabeth replied, cutting her friend off from speaking. "If the only reason you told him no was because of your oath, then you never really cared about him. There's something else that's stopping you, though. The Thalia I know wouldn't just give up her desires to something so trivial and easily avoidable. Trust me when I say you aren't that weak."

"Why are you even pushing for an answer?" Thalia asked suddenly, narrowing her eyes.

"I'm not asking you to start pursuing him," Annabeth retorted flippantly. "I just want to understand your reasoning. I know that Percy cares very deeply for you, and you said you reciprocate… so then things should have turned out differently. In the end, though, you cut that thread and now here we stand, with both you and him more than likely feeling bad over it."

The dark-haired girl stood back and closed her eyes. She collected her thoughts on the matter before responding. "It's just… look… I've never been with anybody before, relationship wise… he's obviously conflicted in finding out who he would be happier with between you and the witch. It felt… wrong… if I were to just be okay with being another choice. I didn't like feeling like I was just girl number three that he was debating over… like an object that he could either take or leave behind. Can you really say that you're fine with feeling like that? Because for me, that just isn't my cup of tea. So I made the choice easy for him. He could consider me a non-factor."

"I get it," the goddess said with a shrug. "Really, I do. I love him, and it hurts to know that he found another two women beside me to care about… but still… it would feel wrong for me to not give him the chance to choose. I'm sure if it were anybody else I would think they were being selfish and trying to start one of those―how are they called―harems? Yeah, I think that's how the kids are referring to them these days. Percy, though? No, I don't think he's selfish enough to do something like that on purpose. Inadvertently? Maybe. At that point, though, I couldn't blame him for it."

Thalia couldn't find it in herself to outwardly agree with the daughter of Athena. What the blonde goddess said made sense, as it usually did, yet an uneasy air settled itself in her lungs. Try as she might, she couldn't remove the rancorous heat that formed in her gut as she thought about Percy using women much like some of the male gods were wont to do.

Instead of focusing on the discomfort, she decided to pour over the thought that Percy simply wasn't like _that_. He certainly had proven himself to be a faithful lover in the past. It would be in poor form for her to doubt his integrity without cause or reason.

"You're right when you say that Percy isn't that selfish. Even if it hurts him, he tries to find a way to make everybody else happy. I just hope that he isn't sacrificing his own happiness for us," the hunter replied calmly.

The two women looked at one another for a moment, pondering further on the possibility. It was Annabeth who frowned and shook her head slowly. "Hopefully that isn't the case. I'm sure we would have noticed though." The goddess sighed and flipped her hair back. "Alright, I think that's enough of this dreary talk. With a war coming up on us, you wanna hit the arena for some combat training?"

The suggestion gave Thalia pause. A grin stretched her mouth out and she nodded in acquiescence to the request. Annabeth was never the best of fighters, but with her status being upgraded to that of a minor god, the blonde had managed to become more of a threat in close combat. Thalia was sure that a good training session would make her morning at least a bit more enjoyable.

* * *

Percy moved through the kitchen, his hands crossing between different utensils as he diced half an onion and went on to beat some eggs in a bowl. His eyes flit between the chopping board and the glass bowl. Energy in the kitchen was high, which was confined only to him since no one else was around. Once the onion had been properly cut, he switched his attention to the green bell pepper and the tomato. Once the vegetables had been sliced appropriately, the young man spun around once as he nodded his head along to the music. He softly sang the verses as they came through the radio speakers.

 _"...And it won't be long,_

 _Before you and me run~_

 _To the place in our hearts,_

 _Where, we hide~"_

The son of Poseidon pushed the vegetables on the board into the bowl of mixed eggs and promptly began to stir once more. With a small flourish, he poured the mixture into a pan which was already on the stove-top.

 _"And I guess that's why they call it the blues,_

 _Time on my hands, could be time spent with you,_

 _Laughing like children,_

 _Living like lovers,_

 _Rolling like thunder,_

 _Under the covers._

 _And I guess that's why the call it the blues!"_

With a satisfied smile, Percy thought back to what the abomination had said. It was his own choice to be happy. Positivity helped to bring about happiness, and as he sang and danced along with the song, a certain contentedness washed across him. The young man looked at the ingredients in front of him, practically begging to be made into a few omelettes.

True enough, Paul had crushed nearly half of the eggs he'd brought home, but there were still enough to craft a decent breakfast. Percy figured that with everything they'd done for him, his mother and Paul deserved to have something cooked for them. Truthfully, it felt fulfilling to do something for them. He felt energetic, ready to live his life to the fullest he possibly could.

 _"...But more than ever,_

 _I simply love you~_

 _More than I love,_

 _Life, itself~_

 _And I guess that's why they call it the blues,_

 _Time on my hands, could be time spent with you,_

 _Laughing like children,_

 _Living like lovers,_

 _Rolling like thunder,_

 _Under the covers~_

 _And I guess that's why they call it the blues!"_

A voice called out from behind him, startling the young man slightly. "You seem to be in a good mood today."

Percy swallowed thickly, his mind racing as he took a deep breath. It took him a moment, however, he regained his composure quickly enough. Without taking any more time to think about his actions, he spun around and wrapped his arms around the woman who spoke. Percy was only able to catch a bare glimpse of magenta colored hair before he pressed his lips against her own, catching his friend and mentor in a kiss that relayed the heat in his chest.

There was a brief moment of hesitation or perhaps surprise on Scáthach's part.

Much to Percy's relief, it was short-lived.

He felt one of her arms moved to his hair while the other snaked its way around his lower back. With his advances reciprocated, the young man pushed his body against the equal frame of his mentor. Heat spread from his chest down through his stomach and throughout the rest of his body.

His kiss became fervent―demanding even―as he breathed in the scent that was just so naturally _Scáthach the God-Slayer._ He parted his lips, running his tongue across her lower lip. No longer was the woman hesitant, and no longer was she surprised by his actions. Her mouth opened slightly, allowing Percy to deepen the kiss.

He swiped his tongue across the top row of her teeth, moving through and around as he explored with excitement. Scáthach never stopped and gave in, however, instead choosing to reciprocate his passion in full. There was no struggle for dominance, as neither truly wanted to be the driving force behind their actions. It was a mutual understanding, where both parties allowed themselves to indulge in their desires for intimacy and closeness.

Percy moved one of his arms off of her midriff and up towards her face, which he cupped gently even as their breathing became labored. His other hand didn't remain idle, instead moving down, running softly over the curve of her posterior. The thin, soft fabric of her pajama bottoms yielded under his touch, giving him a better understanding of her body.

Without warning, Percy felt himself being pushed away. His back impacted the refrigerator heavily and the air almost left his lungs as the stainless steel appliance shuddered.

The cold air between him and his friend left him craving the contact of her warmth once more.

Just as he wondered if he'd made a mistake, the young man felt her lips once more take his, resuming their heated exchange without missing another beat. Her hands ran through his hair and he let his own roam across her body. With brash trepidation and intoxication from taking control of his happiness, Percy moved his ministrations to the front of Scáthach's body. Hands, accustomed to combating everything from Giants, to Titans and gods, to monsters of all kinds, deftly crawled under her borrowed shirt.

He moved slowly while tracing small lines with one hand across her toned abdominals, around her navel.

Emboldened, Percy drifted his right hand further up along her body, with his left arm pressed against her spine. Eventually, he reached his intended target, bringing his hand across one of her breasts. His thumb nudged at one of the hardened peaks and Scáthach allowed herself a sharp intake of air followed by a low hum of approval at the action.

Percy moved down from her mouth and pressed his lips heatedly against her cheek, then down to her jaw, and from there to her neck. He focused his attentions on the supple feel of her flesh beneath his hands and mouth, relishing in how it surrendered itself to his actions without pause.

His breath, warm and heavy, washed over the crook of her neck garnering him a shiver from the woman.

In the back of his mind Percy recalled that he was doing something before he had started intimacy with his mentor. For several seconds he disregarded the nagging, instead opting to lightly nibble at Scáthach's earlobe. His left hand glided up her back while his right-hand fingers continued their work on her chest.

In response to his own enticing actions, Scáthach moved her hands off of his hair and down along his body. Near her pelvis, she felt an indicator of Percy's arousal pressing against her. She trailed down with sturdy touches until her hand reached what she wanted to take.

Percy's breath hitched in his throat slightly at the feel of his friend teasing him. He brought his face away from her's for a moment, seeing that her eyes were half-lidded while they stared back at him. Her lips were parted slightly and her expression set into one that Percy would describe as coquettish. Of course, given their activities, there would be few other ways to interpret such a sexually charged gaze.

Scáthach's hand only served to draw him further into her vivid red eyes. His body demanded more satisfaction than what was being provided by gentle rubbing.

Just as he went to dive back into another passionate connection, his nose caught a whiff of what _exactly_ he'd been doing prior to Scáthach's entrance into the kitchen.

"Oh shit! The omelette!" Percy exclaimed with wide eyes. He reluctantly escaped his mentor's grasp and bolted to the stove.

"So that's what you were cooking then," Scáthach's voice carried over the fan that Percy turned on to get rid of the smell of slightly burned egg.

The son of Poseidon grumbled to himself as he folded the omelette and covered the pan, setting it off to the side. Luckily it was still edible, though one side would be a bit crunchy. Wiping his hands on a towel, Percy turned around and crossed his arms, a crooked grin crossing his lips as he stared at the disheveled appearance of his magenta-haired mentor. Her hair was fairly messy from her night's rest, and her shirt was slightly rumpled. A soft red tint, hardly noticeable, colored the very edges of her cheeks. He doubted the flushed visage was due to embarrassment, however. After all, he felt the same redness around his face and neck, yet he was far from being embarrassed.

He was about to respond when he saw her frown. Red eyes drifted from the center of his face to his right. Percy immediately knew what she had spotted, and chose to simply reveal the scar without any preamble. Turning his head, he heard a loud sigh of exasperation when his right temple was revealed in full.

"How…" the witch's voice was slow and defeated, as if his new mark was no surprise. "Just… how? I take my eyes off of you for no more than eight hours and you somehow manage to go and do something stupid. This, though…"

She placed a hand on his cheek and peered more intently at the deep blemish. Her brow furrowed as she examined the rough gouges in his skin. "This isn't something that you can easily obtain in the middle of battle. This is deliberate. It's still fresh, red and black, almost like a heated brand… one that was pressed deep into the skin. I've never seen this kind of symbol though. Strange. How did you acquire this, Percy?"

Moving away from his friend, the Hero of Olympus began to prepare the ingredients to make more omelettes. He hummed softly to himself while chopping. Finally, he answered carefully, "It's a really oddball story. One that I'd rather explain once my parents wake up. I'm sure they'd love to hear the story in full as well."

Scáthach nodded. "Fair enough. I've learned that with you around, nothing is ever easy to understand." She made her way over to him and stood by his side while he went about making breakfast. "So tell me instead, why you suddenly greeted me with such… fervor."

Percy slowed down his movements, a soft smile crossing his face when he turned to his mentor. Once again, he leaned over and lightly kissed her. She responded enthusiastically, and while he wanted to continue, the young man pulled away after only a few seconds.

"I got a few words of encouragement from a very unexpected source. Turns out, that the key to finding what I've been looking for was always in the palm of my hand," Percy said wistfully.

The witch gave him an amused smirk. "How vague and cryptic of you. I think that your constant contact with deities is starting to affect you in unforeseen ways."

"That could very well be the case," Percy bemoaned, dropping his head. He picked it back up when Scáthach pecked him on the lips again. Already, he could feel his mood improve as he made his choices. In the end, he hoped that the choices would lead him to the elusive goal. If not… well… thinking about such an outcome wasn't doing him any favors.

Scáthach grabbed his hand gently in her own and turned his body toward her. "Have you made your decision, then?"

"I have," Percy replied, a scowl flickering onto his visage. "Last night you said that the idea of a polyamorous relationship wasn't to your pleasure. Can I ask why?"

The woman's lip twisted slightly as her stare became dry and unamused. "Do you really have to ask that? Why should I share a man I care greatly for with others? I understand that there are some who don't mind these kinds of things, however, I would dedicate myself fully to a relationship, out of respect for the other party. When you apply polyamory into the situation we find ourselves in, it would include both the architect and the hunter. I hold little respect for one, while the other I'm rather impartial to. So what's the point, exactly?"

Seeing her expression, the son of Poseidon raised his hands defensively. "Okay, okay, I think you painted a good picture of your stance on the subject. I understand that it isn't the most agreeable set-up, but I won't lie to you, them, or myself anymore."

Scáthach frowned, looking warily at her student. "What do you mean?"

Percy sighed and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. "I won't choose between any of you."

Blinking, the magenta-haired witch looked somewhere between astonished and confused. "You're… not going to choose?" She repeated slowly, testing each word as it left the tip of her tongue. "You'll just leave it at that? Instead of making a choice you'll run away from it?"

With a short wry chuckle, Percy closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. "There's always a choice. I'm making one right now. I'm not a hero. I'm a selfish man, Scáthach. Instead of playing the game that's been rigged from the start, I decided to play another. This one, though, gives me a chance at winning. No fractions. Right here and now, it's all or nothing for me. I'm gambling everything, making a choice for a brighter future."

The witch of Dún Scáith stared at the young man with raised eyebrows. A few seconds of tense silence followed Percy's words, before Scáthach took steps away from Percy. She looked away with a small frown and nodded slowly. "I see. So it's either all of us are with you, or none of us are with you. You're passing the bill to us, basically. Now it's our choice whether or not to condone being in a group relationship with you as the center."

The woman stared at the tile flooring for nearly a minute.

Percy could see her eyes moving, her mouth twisting occasionally as the time passed. He wanted to move in close, to pull her up against himself and plant his lips on hers again, erasing any shadow of doubt from their minds.

In the end, though, he understood perfectly well that she would need space. He'd shown his hand in full, which only left him the opportunity to wait until she revealed her own. One way or another, Percy prepared himself for moving on with his life.

He was broken from his musings when his mentor began to laugh.

Her peals of laughter sounded bitter and discontent to his ears, though it could have been his own preconceptions coloring the tone. Percy was aware that what he offered was practically an ultimatum. He certainly couldn't view it as anything else. It was a cowardly thing to do.

A selfish thing to do.

He wasn't a good person.

Then again, only the good die young.

If the saying were true to any extent, then he would be living for at least another decade or so. He supposed then, that being a good person wasn't quite what he wanted if it included an early death.

"You truly play a tough game, Percy," Scáthach said as her laughter died down. Her face was set into a smiling grimace, close to being a sneer of disgruntled complacency. "I have to wonder what exactly happened last night that would bring about such an abrupt assertiveness to your person. I'll think on your proposal, which is the most I can promise you right now. Who knows, maybe everybody really _can_ get a happily-ever-after in this story."

"You aren't angry?" Percy asked suddenly, his eyes betraying his confusion.

"Angry?" Scáthach parroted. She scratched at her nose. "No, I'm not particularly angry. Frustrated, yes. Disappointed by your own reversal of the choice, yes. However, I don't direct much of these feelings toward you. I should, maybe, but I don't. After all, you chose the path that not many others would think to take. It takes courage, or perhaps ignorance and arrogance, to do something like that. In your case, I believe it to be the former."

Nodding his head gratefully, Percy said nothing else, turning back to his cooking. He was somewhat guilty about pushing the choice onto the women he cared for, however, it made his own life much easier. He'd already chosen his path, which only left them to choose theirs. If he'd tried to pick only one while disregarding the others, there was no doubt in his mind that he wouldn't be happy. The thought of hurting the ones left behind would haunt him. It only proved his weakness.

"Wouldn't that be something," Percy muttered as he went about chopping. "Everybody being happy, as you said. One thing that was made apparent to me was that if I wanted to be happy, I'd need to actively push myself to that point. I think… all this time, I've just been going along with what fate threw at me, hoping that somewhere along the lines I could be happy. That kind of thinking is passive. You were right, it was all reactionary. Well, no more. I'm taking the reins, and I'll carve through what gets in my way. Nothing's gonna stop me from finally getting what I want."

Scáthach nodded, and an uncomfortable silence descended upon the two.

A bitter smile wormed its way onto his face. The truth wasn't very pleasant, though there was nothing else to say.

Eventually, however, the tension was broken when the witch changed the subject so utterly and completely that it threw Percy for a loop. "You drool in your sleep."

Apparently, there _was_ something to say, it just wasn't him who would say it. Percy smirked and looked at his mentor. "Yeah, well, your morning breath could be used as a chemical weapon." He sniped playfully.

"And you aren't any spring rose in that department either," the woman retorted as she crossed her arms.

Percy stepped closer to her, forgetting about breakfast and nearly bringing their noses to the point of touching. Because they were of similar height, he was able to keep his head straight as he stared directly into her scarlet eyes. In a way, he understood why she had moved onto a different topic of discussion. The atmosphere had become awkward and a bit strained due to his words. Percy decided to humor his friend. If she wanted to keep things between them lighthearted while she decided her own course of action, he could oblige. It would be more comfortable that way to all parties.

"I didn't hear you complaining before."

With a shrug, Scáthach backed off and turned around. She walked out of the kitchen while calling over her shoulder, "Admittedly, I got swept up in the heat of the moment."

As he watched her leave a frown formed neatly on his face.

Things had gone fairly well with his magenta-haired teacher. Much better than they had any right going, if he was being honest with himself. He'd kept his persuasion to a minimum, which prevented him from looking like an idiot. He also didn't have to worry about more guilt from any sort of guileful manipulations on his part. Not that any amount of guilt would dissuade him from obtaining his goal.

Percy wondered if his conviction would be tested. The night prior, he'd indicated to the abomination that he would do _anything_ to be happy, to learn of happiness in full. The statement sounded selfish and possibly cruel, however, even Percy knew that there might be moral obstacles presented to him.

As it stood, he wasn't sure if he could keep his pseudo-promise. There was no doubt in his mind that the abominable creature would enjoy seeing the chaos that would ensue as a direct result of his unrestrained actions. A creature without moral fiber was one to be feared. They were unpredictable, and would probably work only to entertain themselves. Perhaps it would lead to a person completely enchanted by hedonism.

For his part, the son of Poseidon could see how he embodied parts of such a school of thought. The highest goal he had was to achieve happiness for himself. But if that meant sacrificing himself for others, because they made him happy, would he actually be happy with death? The question he asked himself was not easily answered. In turn, hedonistic was perhaps not the proper term to use when describing himself.

As such, he found the contradiction of happiness infuriating. It was so simple. It was so complex. There wasn't a single answer, and it only served to give Percy more motivation to continue on his path.

And truly, he knew he wasn't the only one looking to be happy with their lives. Humanity as a whole sought pleasure and happiness. Nobody sought out true, cold, unforgiving pain. After all, even masochists enjoyed pain to an extent because they derived some form of gratification from it. Humanity―or rather, sentient life in general―was nothing more than a conglomeration of selfish, pleasure seeking individuals.

He found comfort in knowing he wasn't alone.

It was unfortunate then, that so many people hid their nature under the pretense of something different. He wondered just who else could admit that they were constructs of selfish desire. For him, there was no deeper personal truth.

Even so, he wasn't beyond having morals. They were perhaps a pesky hindrance in the long run, however, Percy was fine with them being in place. They did a fine job of keeping him from falling off the wagon completely. It would do no good for his romantic interests to see him as an utter monster, after all.

 _'I wonder if I should have told her she nearly killed me last night. That could have gotten an interesting reaction,'_ he mused, a small smirk crawling up his face. Somebody interrupted his questions, though, when they spoke from behind him.

"Mmm, something smells good."

Percy blinked and turned to face who had spoken.

He'd been so enraptured in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed his mother walk into the kitchen. Paul was stepping in right behind her, rubbing his eyes with both hands in an act that looked downright childish. A yawn erupted from his mouth and Sally only gave her husband a small smile at his actions.

"When I woke up I wasn't expecting to be treated to breakfast," Sally said as she redirected her attention at the plates with omelettes on them. "They look really good too. Well, except for that one still in the pan. Looks a bit on the toasty side."

Once again, Percy blinked in surprise. He hadn't realized that even when bogged down by his own thoughts, he'd gone through the motions of making breakfast for the family. He supposed, though, that him zoning out was actually a boon rather than a detriment.

"Ah, yeah. That omelette didn't come out looking very _egg_ -ceptional, huh?" Percy said with a small chuckle. He shook his head and sighed softly. "Get it… exceptional… _egg_ -ceptional… it's funny 'cuz… ah never mind, you get it."

His parents looked between one another with raised eyebrows.

"Hey now, what's with those _egg_ -spressions on your faces. You make it seem like I told a joke in poor taste," the young man continued, his lips twitching as he repressed a full-blown smile. "You aren't trying to _egg_ -nore my _egg_ -cellent _yokes_ , are you?"

Sally fought against the smirk that crawled up her own mouth as she responded, "I think you're _eggs_ -aggerating the quality of your puns. They aren't _cracking_ me up at all. Omeletting this one slide, but don't be so _egg_ -streme and heavy-handed next time."

The two Jacksons looked at one another for a moment, before they both burst out into a frenzy of laughter. They're early day glee was stopped short, though, when Paul decided to speak.

"Hey, Percy, what happened to your temple?"

* * *

The morning had passed much like Percy was expecting it to.

His mother was fairly upset that another reminder of Percy being grievously wounded adorned his body. Additionally, the newest marking was particularly noticeable and not the most pleasant thing to look at. Sure, he still looked damn good―according to himself, naturally―but his own insistences wouldn't sway Sally into thinking any better.

Of course, he'd been pressed into explaining just how it came to be. The story of meeting an abominable tentacle-monster in his own soul sounded ridiculous coming out of his mouth, but he'd told it nonetheless. In the end, his family and mentor could choose whether to believe him or not. Either way, it wouldn't actually affect him.

Tamara, in contrast to his mother, had been much more accommodating to the newest scar. Percy could only attribute such a reaction to his sister's youthful naïveté. He only wished that she would be able to keep her bubbly personality for a while longer, assuming that he didn't fail to save the world.

Paul seemed perturbed, which was understandable, however his reaction had been the least intense. He'd been worried, assuredly so, but he was vocal about his relief in knowing that at least Percy was safe.

Their discussion over breakfast had ended when Paul left for work and Sally had taken Tamara to school. It was at that time that Percy told them he would be staying at Camp Half-Blood for the remainder of his time in New York. Sally and Paul had only been placated of their reluctance when Percy explained his reasoning to them.

It was clear that wherever he went, there would be those who would want to harm him. The son of Poseidon therefore felt it best to keep away from his family for a while. His promise to stay in contact eased their worry, if only slightly, though there were tight hugs and well-wishes for several minutes in the Blofis-Jackson household.

As it was, both Percy and Scáthach found themselves once more at the boundary line of Camp Half-Blood.

"It's a good thing that this card has nigh-unlimited funds," Scáthach muttered to herself. She pocketed a wad of cash that she'd withdrawn from an ATM and frowned at Percy. "Why couldn't we have just asked Hestia to bring us here? I'm sure she'd have been more than happy to help her _favorite nephew_."

The young man gave his friend a dry glance. "She isn't our chauffeur, Scáthach. She's one of the only goddesses that I admire, so I'd rather not use her as a convenient commodity."

The witch crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "Please, it seems like she'd do a lot more for you. You're a charismatic person, and I think that you've managed to work your charms on our dearest Goddess of the Hearth as well."

Without another word of argument, the young man shook his head and placed a hand on the barrier of the camp. He frowned and pushed harder, feeling it hold strong for the most part. He focused intently on the way it stayed his hand, and for a moment, it faltered in its build. However, just as quickly as it had come it was gone. It was too discreet to feel if one wasn't really paying attention, but it was still there.

"Well, what's your plan now? We're stuck out here since neither of us can get through the barrier," Scáthach stated, poking at Percy's shoulder. "I knew it would have been better to just call on Hestia for this."

The son of Poseidon shrugged. "There's a patrol that goes around the boundary line. They'll come by this area again at some point in time. For now though, we just have to be patient and wait."

"Actually, it would seem that your favor is turning around for the better," a third voice interrupted Percy and Scáthach's interchange.

Hestia, in her younger form, strode toward both mortals with a tentative smile on her face.

Percy waved and grinned widely, wiggling his eyebrows at Scáthach teasingly. "It seems as though my master plan went off without a hitch. Wouldn't you agree, oh mentor of mine? Hestia came to greet us at the front basically as soon as we arrived. And here you were, complaining about being stuck outside."

Scáthach huffed and crossed her arms defiantly. "A coincidence, nothing more."

"Not entirely true," Hestia called out, finally reaching the duo. She waved her hand over the barrier and gestured for them to cross into the camp. "I kept a small portion of my conscience trained on Percy after I left you last night. It was mostly just for my own peace of mind, however, after what occurred I could say that it was justified caution. It was interesting then, that I woke up due to a minor disturbance in Percy's mental state early this morning."

Both Percy and Scáthach gave one another a knowing look, with the young man letting go of an obnoxiously loud sigh. "I'm getting so tired of having to explain shit to people! Why am I the center of attention all the time? Who the fuck decided that it would be fun to mess with my life so much?" He dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

"Have I…" the goddess started. She stopped when a marking on Percy's right temple made itself clear to her sight. "T-that… that mark… where…?"

"Last night… in my soul… tentacle-monster… bathtub barracuda…" Percy muttered through his hands.

Without saying another word, the goddess moved to where her nephew stood and crooked her finger. Percy obliged and crouched down so that his face was at her own level. Her warm fingers ran soothing lines across his newest blemish. She frowned when she felt just how deep it was. She traced over the rough edges of each line, sending some of her power into the area. The marking didn't react in any way to her godly energy, neither attacking it nor accepting it.

A few seconds passed and Hestia eventually removed her hand. She sighed and gave Percy a pointed look. "I would like more details on this later. For now, though, there is something that you should see on the mortal news. Come, the cabin counselors are watching it already."

Hestia turned on her heel briskly and began walking toward the Big House. Percy and Scáthach were able to keep pace thanks to their longer legs, though Hestia seemed to have no intention of changing her form. Eventually, the trio found themselves walking into the Big House, making their way through a few open doors and into a room that held a small television in it.

Heads turned when he entered. As Hestia said, the counselors were gathered in the room, each sitting in a plastic chair with worried expressions plastering their faces. Annabeth and Thalia appeared surprised by his unannounced arrival, as were many other half-bloods. He ignored the looks and instead focused on the news station that was playing. A reporter was talking into her microphone, behind her were some images of what seemed to be a flooded city.

 _"...Persian Gulf was struck by a completely inexplicable tsunami just two hours past. Because it happened not too long ago, reports of casualties are fluctuating, and there hasn't been a consensus yet, though, from the sheer scale of this travesty, we can expect a tremendous loss of life at the end of the day. Countries affected by the freak tidal wave include Kuwait, Iraq, and Iran. Much of the eastern side of Kuwait was struck. Even the capital, Kuwait City, where more than 2 million people live, has been devastated. What experts are confused by, however, is how the tsunami didn't stop flowing inland until it reached nearly three-hundred and fifty miles into Iraq. It was almost as if the water of the Persian Gulf was being pulled into the southern and mid part of Iraq. In addition, there was no seismic activity recorded to indicate exactly why the tsunami formed. Scientists believe it could have been a barometric incident that started this disaster, which would be in accordance with the massive thunderstorm that formed over Hillah, Iraq, late last night. The thunderstorm has brought a veritable torrential downpour, drenching the city in nearly ten inches of rain over the course of several hours. At this stage, it is unclear as to the cause of both the tsunami, and the thunderstorm."_

The scene cut away from the woman and to larger images of the devastation. A small panel at the bottom of the screen labeled the location as Kuwait City, Kuwait.

Water still remained in the streets, muddied and light brown from where it had mixed with dirt and debris of all kinds. Buildings, ones that Percy figured had once scraped the sky, were toppled over, broken from their very foundations. Windows and glass panes were shattered, littering the broken husks of the skyscrapers. Cars and trucks were scattered throughout the decimated area, some upturned and others on their side. The smaller and less sturdy buildings had been torn apart by the force of the wave, ripping cement and wood from the bodies and sweeping it along into the streets.

Percy felt somebody tap on his shoulder. Looking away from the tragic scene, he saw Scáthach move closer to his ear. "Hillah, Iraq houses the ruins of ancient Babylon. There is obviously a connection between these disasters and whatever Ahriman is doing there."

The young man nodded discreetly. "Probably true. I wouldn't doubt this is the fallout from meeting the 'Angry Goddess' that Spenta Mainyu mentioned last night. That might be assuming a bit too much at this point, but given the situation, I think we can afford to make assumptions."

"If that's the case," Scáthach started, holding her chin with one hand as her eyes cast themselves back to the television. "Then we can be so bold to presume that this 'Angry Goddess' has more than enough power to be deemed a credible threat."

"Too true," Hestia interceded, popping up behind both warriors. Percy and Scáthach gave a start and turned to glare at Hestia. Or rather, Scáthach glared, while Percy only cocked his head.

"Do you know anything more about this, Hestia?" The son of Poseidon asked. One thing was clear to the young man. If the 'Angry Goddess' was solely responsible for the disasters, she must have been a deity who was connected to water. While the extent of her power was unclear, it was apparent that she was putting up some sort of a fight.

 _'Good on her. I hope she kicks his ass. If I'm lucky, maybe she'll be the one to kill Ahriman, so that I can focus my sole attention on Spenta Mainyu.'_

"I'm afraid not. I'll be sure to ask Poseidon, however, about any sea goddesses with a particularly nasty temper when I see him again," Hestia replied, her sad eyes glued to the images of Kuwait City.

For a moment Percy looked at the television, before he sighed and shrugged to himself.

' _Too bad about the people, I guess.'_

Turning around, Percy motioned for his mentor to follow him. The witch nodded and moved behind him as he exited the room as quietly as possible. Once away from the gathered crowd and the depressing mood that had enveloped the leaders of camp, Percy cracked his neck and rotated his shoulders a few times.

"Where are we going, Percy?"

"Training, you and me, in the arena," the young man responded without missing a beat. He flexed his hands a few times, loosening the muscles in each finger. "I doubt I'll end up leading these kids in battle, but that doesn't mean that I can't try to teach them a few things I've picked up over the years. Not to mention, we need at least a modicum of trust. This will hopefully be just one way we'll get that."

The woman frowned for a moment, before her eyes lit up in understanding. "I see. We will demonstrate our combat prowess for them in a public spar, which will incline them to listen to our advice. This, in turn, will allow us to form a tentative bond through mentor-student exercises, at least for a time. The campers will be more likely to trust us if we teach them how to survive an upcoming war. But… what for? Surely there is another way."

"I'm sure there are other ways," Percy acquiesced. "But this is the most straightforward I could think of. I don't wanna spend time beating around the bush with them. They won't be fighting the same caliber opponents we will be but that doesn't mean we can't teach them a few things to help them survive. It just feels like the right thing to do. Besides, this way, I get to humiliate and lightly maim a few of them in a completely justifiable situation."

Scáthach laughed lightly and shook her head. "So it was declared and so it shall be. Your new attitude may well be an anathema to this world, Percy, if you don't temper it."

The son of Poseidon gave his mentor a crooked grin. "I know. It might be fun to see what happens in that case, right?"

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 **A/N: I don't own 'I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues' by Elton John. I don't know who would think that I would, but still.**


	17. Help Me Make the Most of Freedom

**A/N: This chapter approximates the half-way point for the story as a whole. Percy long since acquired what one could say was the critical mass for the chain-reaction that led to his predicament.**

 _ **Reviews:**_

 **Kindred Scarlet: The spar lasted longer than I'd intended, though I think its purpose was conveyed decently enough.**

 **BathoryMotives: I'm glad you decided to play, though I don't have any prizes for you, since you guessed right. Disappointing, I'm sure. Thanks for the feedback!**

 **Shigure Toshiro: The time finally came for Percy to take his stand. More standing comes in this chapter, solid like an oak tree. Thanks for the review!**

 **Death Fury: Thanks!**

 **some fucking random guy: I'm always listening to something while writing, usually it matches with the tone I'm trying to set for a particular scene. Besides, some songs have great lyrics to make titles or references to!**

 **saske92ii: I'm glad you've enjoyed my revamped Percy. I know that many authors don't care for harems since it can portray their characters in an undesirable light. I decided to take that and just run with it. As repressed as I've painted Percy to be, I wanted to give him a bit of leeway for his own wants. Nyaru won't have a huge role in the rest of the story. I've only planned for one or two more appearances, though each holds significance in their own way. I understand from the greater Cthulu Mythos that Nyaruko-san actually likes to blend in with humans in order to manipulate them better. I looked at that and said 'creative license' in order to portray such a monster in this universe. Harems come in all shapes and sizes and can be formed through tactful diplomacy, instead of coincidence or fake arousal (a.k.a how I plan on doing it to an extent.) I'm sure it'll work out for him in the end, assuming he doesn't die or anything. Thanks for the review by the way!**

 **son of hades1: I'm glad I could help improve your mood! This chapter has fewer smiley parts in it though, so please don't hate me. Thanks for the feedback!**

 **Mangahero18: Oh yeah, for sure the gods can be a vindictive bunch. Obviously their past actions and attitudes were glossed over by Rick to make the series more acceptable for younger audiences. I just decided to follow that trend, toning down their raving necessity to fuck or fight the best things around, just to make them less of the forces of nature they were basically portrayed as in old tales. I suppose when it comes down to it, a Hero is something that is subjective to each person. Are heroes supposed to be completely selfless? Should they never have a chance to get what they want, even after all they've done? Anyway, thanks for the review, I'm glad you enjoyed last chapter.**

 **Malosi06: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you enjoyed the chapters and how Percy continues to be. Both Annabeth and Thalia reacted how I envisioned them to. Both seem reasonable, Annabeth more so than Thalia, and both of them are more mature than they were in the books considering their age and newfound wisdom. Words can be powerful weapons, after all.**

 **divineboss2000: Thanks for the review!**

 **TheYoLOMan: Haha, well it makes me feel pretty good hearing that you enjoyed the story so much so far. I've always liked characters who are more than just good or evil. Practically no human is outright good or evil. They mostly just look after their self-interests, which makes them selfish instead. I took liberties with Scathach's background and her plight from myth, since I wanted more than just a badass warrior. Hestia will soon make her advance. Things will start to pick up faster than before, so the war is about to heat up and we'll get to see each side in due time. Chaos was intended to be a main character in the story in the early stages of me writing it, but then I realized how much I really just didn't want to write her persona to be goody-two-shoes, so instead I made her kind of a bitch. After all, she's a goddess used to getting her way. It makes sense that she'd be a bit conceited. I haven't forgotten about Morded, and I actually wanted to give a bit of dedicated time just to show her and Muramasa in the jungle, but decided against it in the end. Thanks for the review, your thoughts, and your kind words!**

 **ArthurShade: Thanks for the kind words!**

 **Trigger-Happy Texan: The little gestures that I give each character help me visualize how they act and give me a better understanding of how I want another character to _react_ to said action. Most conversations that I write are there for a reason, not just for random fluff. For quick and snappy dialogue I tend to cut down on narrative and just add one descriptor, or none at all. It flows better that way in my opinion. Woot, for the harem, am I right? Thanks for the review and your thoughts! **

**ChrisBMWW155326: Wow, I'm glad that you like the story as much as you do. As an author, it feels nice to hear something like that, especially when I'm just doing this for fun. I'll do my best to keep my standard of quality. Thanks for the review! (P.S- I had a pair of whale slippers when I was younger where I put my foot in the whale's mouth. They were pretty comfortable.)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not make any money off this work of fanfiction. All rights for the characters in Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus go to Rick Riordan and all who were involved in the creation of the novels.**

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17\. Help Me Make the Most of Freedom and of Pleasure

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The arena was smaller than Percy remembered. At least, that was how it seemed to him, when looking back and reminiscing. He scrunched his face and blew out a huff of air.

He supposed that even if it was destroyed, Annabeth might actually be okay with remodeling it again. There was almost always room for improvement in her eyes, especially when it came to architecture. She would be able to find the smallest detail that was undesirable and improve upon it in some way.

Then again, it was partially her pride doing the work as well. She had admitted as much a few years back. It was admirable that she could still identify her own faults. Equally so that she constantly tried to diminish the role they played in motivating her actions.

All campers in the arena had cleared out once they saw the Hero of Olympus enter, watching intently as he went about warming himself up. They stood at the far reaches of the area, standing out of the way, prepared to move even further if the fight became too intense. A few groups had formed as they spoke to one another, their conversations lost on Percy's ears.

"You know, I just recalled that you've been holding back for some time now," Scáthach called from across the arena. The two stood thirty feet apart as they stretched their limbs. "From what I saw when you fought Crom Cruach, you're far more capable than I knew. Your secrecy irks me, Percy."

"I didn't want to hurt you," the young man replied smoothly. He pulled Riptide from his pocket and twirled it in his fingers. He tossed the pen from one hand to the other a few times as his mentor did a few leg swings. "Even the fight against Crom wasn't the extent of my power. True enough, I was getting close to my limit, but I wasn't there yet. Don't be so eager, either. You won't be pushing me to the edge today, not while we're still in camp."

The witch frowned. "How boring. But you're right; today isn't the day that we fight like that."

Percy felt a twinge of discomfort at the way his mentor spoke. Truthfully, he never wanted to fight at his fullest against Scáthach. He would prefer to reserve such a right exclusively for enemies, not friends and lovers. There was no doubt in his mind that at his absolute maximum he was a nigh-unstoppable force of nature. Mountains would literally crumble under him, miles worth of land would be torn asunder, and new canyons rivaling the one in Arizona would be formed. It might have been arrogant of him to assume, however, at his peak, he could probably count the number of entities who matched his raw physical strength on his fingers.

Inclining his head, Percy uncapped the pen and watched as it became a glowing blade of celestial bronze. He felt the sword hum in his hand, however, there was no sense of content in holding Riptide. If it were sentient, it would perhaps acknowledge him as it's rightful owner. Chiron had once said that Riptide was a sword with a tragic past, which no doubt referred to how Hercules had treated Zoё when they first met. He was also possibly hinting at the other wielder's of Riptide who had met… unsavory ends. Only those who were attached to the sea could feel utterly comfortable using Anaklusmos, or at least he assumed as much.

"Not your other?" Scáthach asked, motioning at his chosen weapon. She stared for a moment, then shook her head and smirked. "Nevermind. I can see the merit now. Anaklusmos is a symbol to the Greek camp. They identify it with the strongest demigod they've ever encountered. A leader, a figure to look up to, a goal to strive for. Yes, good choice indeed."

Percy smiled tightly at his mentor. "You catch on quickly. Just a bit of nuance to show them the difference between their power…" He held his right arm out, fully extended. "And my own."

Riptide cleaved through his elbow, severing his limb in two, the forearm dropping to the ground with a thud. He ground his teeth together, feeling his jaw crack under the strain of holding his composure. He cursed under his breath as sniffed imperiously at the many gasps that ran through the impromptu audience.

Scáthach gave him a confused frown. "That was a bit extreme don't you think?"

His response was only to bring his sword down, impaling the fallen limb through the hand and entering the ground below. Blood stopped flowing from his elbow, and from the stump, a length of bone began to extend outward. In conjunction with his ulna and radius reforming, sinew and tissue began to layer around his bones. Skin then regrew over the area as other important parts of the arm, such as blood vessels and nerves, regenerated in the confines of his body.

Truthfully, Percy was quite ignorant of how the curse worked. He knew that there were several necessary components in the body. He didn't know everything about human anatomy, though he'd been given a handful of lessons by Angra Mainyu in Purgatory. The young man had a vague idea of everything that should be in a healthy human arm, though, he had no clue on exactly what went where or why it was there in the first place.

He figured that the curse was also based off the force-of-will to enact and direct it, much like demigod abilities. After all, it wasn't like he knew how he could increase the surface tension of water so he could walk over puddles and lakes. In the end, he figured he shouldn't induce migraines over semantics.

Percy curled his fingers, forming a fist as he clutched his hand several times. Glad that nothing had gone wrong in the healing process, he removed Riptide from its jury-rigged scabbard. The healing process had lasted less than twenty seconds, and he was now more than ready to fight.

"It was pretty outlandish to start with dismemberment," Percy drolly admitted. "But it makes for an excellent way to open."

With slow, deliberate movements he walked toward his mentor's position. His eyes flickered to her spear, which materialized in her hands upon his advance. He kept his guard down, one hand going into his pocket while the other tightened around Anaklusmos. He tilted his head to the side and smiled, going as far to close his eyes.

The taunt worked in full.

Not one to let an opportunity pass her by, Scáthach moved quickly on his form.

Percy moved to the left, eyes snapping open, sliding across the floor and bringing his sword up to parry a thrust from Scáthach. Their weapons connected, resulting in a metallic clang. The witch recovered her stance rapidly, blocking an incoming slash. With the momentum still transferring to her, the woman dug her feet into the ground. Her body was pushed back from the force of the blow.

Scáthach changed her form and swung her spear in a wide arc. Her target didn't flinch as he stepped in closer to her body. The spear slammed against his left arm, however, the bladed end failed to make any contact. Instead, the shaft of Gáe Bolg crashed into his upper arm, shattering the bone and pushing Percy a bit to the side.

The son of Poseidon stumbled a bit, healing the injury and kicking his mentor's spear aside. He pushed forward and thrust his sword at her abdomen. He was met with open air as Scáthach twisted her body. Her evasion left Percy open from overextending, which was rewarded by her foot being planted in the side of his knee.

His leg buckled under him and Percy was forced to duck under another strike. His own downward momentum worked in his favor as the tip of Gáe Bolg sailed over his head. He saw his friend back up several paces, no doubt to keep herself at a more favorable position. Due to the reach of her weapon, she'd be better off taking shots at him from a few feet away.

Of course, such a move was to be expected. He'd fought his mentor on hundreds of occasions. Percy was familiar with how she acted during battle, even those oriented on training instead of killing. While she was a tough task-master, he understood her motives. It was for his sake, after all, that she took him under her wing. For that, he was grateful.

The young man allowed himself a moment's reprieve, breathing deeply after their short skirmish. He stood up and smiled once again at Scáthach. The woman met his smile with an expression of neutrality. Percy shifted back and let go of the terrors that constantly beset his mind. He winced as a sharp headache pierced through his skull.

The two warriors eyed one another warily. Percy moved first, cleaving his blade into the ground, sending debris into the air in front of him.

Scáthach raised one arm to shield her eyes from the rock and dirt that flew in her direction. She smirked as the corner of her eye caught sight of a dull bronze gleam. She spun around, and stabbed out with her spear, catching Percy in the hip with her own weapon. The spearhead sunk deep, however, Percy didn't allow his injury to cost him the fight.

He gripped the spear with one hand and slashed out with Riptide. His mentor was forced to let go of her weapon in order to keep her hand attached to her arm. With a grunt, Percy pulled the spear out of his body, settling his weight onto the unwounded side to avoid collapsing. He grinned widely at Scáthach when his wound closed, standing tall once more.

He tested the weight of Gáe Bolg in one hand. With a shrug, the son of Poseidon tossed the spear back at his friend, who caught it in mid-air.

The woman scowled at him. "I made a mistake. You technically had me dead-to-rights with my error, which would have ended in you winning."

Percy answered her unasked question. "Where would the fun in that kind of win be, though? If I lose, not a problem, I'm quite used to the feeling. If I win, well ring-a-ding, that would be pretty damn groovy."

Scáthach scoffed, though a small smile crossed her lips at the same time. "A very honorable action. Hopefully, though, it won't be a problem in a real fight to the death."

"Nah, I'd have just finished it right there and then," Percy said cheerfully, waving off her pseudo-concern with one hand. "If it was a fight to the death, then I'd already be ready to kill the person, monster, or immortal that I was fighting at the time. You though? I don't want to kill you, so I can afford to drag out the fight."

His words elicited a jerky nod from his mentor. She went to respond to his statement, however, Percy pushed off the ground violently, barrelling toward her without restraint. His movements, while powerful and full of vigor, were tight and constrained at the same time. The son of Poseidon went through the motions of dueling with his friend, their weapons cracking together in rapid succession.

Neither would gain an upper hand at the level they were performing.

Percy kept the pace easily, using only one hand to swing his sword left to right, up and down, forward and back. His hair swished across his forehead and a few beads of sweat trickled down the sides of his face. The stalemate between him and his mentor looked dead-set. His eyes danced in every direction, tracking the blood-red spear while also keeping Scáthach's appendages in view.

After all, it wouldn't have been the first time his friend had used hand-to-hand combat in order to throw him off guard. He knew that in a fight there were no rules. He already understood that concept from before his time in Purgatory.

It had been reinforced by all of his teachers, however, when they had trained him. None of them were above aiming below the belt, or throwing dirt at him, or even spitting in his face. If it could be used against him in the heat of battle, then it was free game. Of course, he'd been encouraged to use equal tactics in order to survive.

"This is quite frustrating," Scáthach suddenly stated, sweeping low with her spear.

Percy parried with the flat of his blade, flicking her strike away from his body. "I'm sure it is. You were probably hoping for something more… vigorous."

He ducked and dodged a sudden flurry of strikes that were sent his way. Her superhuman speed finally making an appearance in their fight, Percy understood the position he was being forced into. They were too close to one another, which meant Percy couldn't physically wound himself. Even letting the memories of torture through his walls led to flinching, which could give the millennia-old witch an opening to end the fight.

Scáthach stopped her assault and took a calming breath, allowing Percy to do the same. He made to back away, however, his mentor stopped him before he could create distance.

The two engaged each other once more.

Percy kept his defensive attitude, dodging Gáe Bolg when it was appropriate while blocking any attack that came too close. Seeing an opportunity to advance his position the young man shifted his weight back on one foot. When his mentor swung again, he let the spear slide against the edge of Riptide, moving along the length of the blade. Her weight carried onto the unburdened side of his body, sending her stumbling forward without grace.

Not wasting the chance, Percy hopped up and snapped his leg across Scáthach's back. The woman was thrown across the arena by the force of Percy's kick, rolling across the ground while she flailed to catch herself mid-tumble. The son of Poseidon watched casually as his friend finally managed to slam the butt of her spear into the ground. Eventually, her momentum was brought to a halt as she ground her feet and free hand through the floor.

She brought her head up and flicked the hair from her eyes, which were narrowed dangerously at Percy. She stood from her crouch and dusted herself off. For a few seconds she examined her body, stretching out all of her limbs and twisting her torso from side to side.

Percy stood back, letting her do as she pleased. With her expression as it was, the Anti-God knew he had incited a fire in her spirit. He was too casual with his dismissal of her attempts―too lackadaisical with his movements and counters―for her pride and what it could handle.

Additionally, he wasn't pressing his advantage any longer. He'd stayed his hand when she was down and injured. A show of mercy. A power play, stating that he was the one in control of the situation. It was a message, one that told her she was no conceivable threat to him. No doubt, she wasn't taking the gesture very kindly.

The only warning Percy received of an impending attack was the slight snarl that his mentor gave.

Like a flash of lightning, her body was already in front of his own, her red spear poised to pierce a lung. The cursed weapon shot forward, cutting through the air with an audible whistle, preparing to catch Percy in the chest for his mannerisms.

Before it could reach his body, a hand shot up and gripped the spear tightly, stopping all movement. Percy looked down to see the tip of Gáe Bolg only a few inches from his chest. He lifted his face, a smirk crawling onto his mouth, prepared to non-verbally taunt his magenta-haired teacher once more.

A fist caught him square across the jaw before he could react. Stumbling, the young man felt a knee slam into his gut, drawing the breath up and out of his lungs. He managed to look up just in time to see his mentor bringing her foot down at the end of a tornado kick. His jaw once again caught the brunt of the blow, pulverizing the bone and tearing the muscle in much of the left side of his face. He was lifted off his feet and thrown a few feet away, hearing the crunch of breaking bones as he landed awkwardly on his right arm.

Disoriented, he heard the distinct sound of astonished shouts from the spectators. His neck had a nasty twinge to it, no doubt also being injured due to the force behind Scáthach's kick. His vision swimming, the young man went to stand, only to have the back of his leg impaled by Gáe Bolg. He felt an arm wrap around his neck, placing him in a very dangerous headlock.

If it had been a real fight, that moment would have been his death. His spine was easily accessible. A strong jerk in any direction would break his upper vertebrae, leading to the paralysis of basically everything below his head. A normal human would suffocate due to major damage to a nerve that controlled breathing. For him, however, such an injury wouldn't cause his death. He could have healed said nerve prior to his asphyxiation.

Instead, he simply would be defenseless for a handful of seconds, unable to move anything except his face.

In a fight to the death, he couldn't afford to lose a handful of seconds. His foe would have full access to finish the fight without resistance.

With a racing mind, Percy violently twisted his entire body to buck off his attacker. He felt the blade-end of Gáe Bolg tear through his leg, severing the limb. The pain compounded with that in his jaw.

He felt the pressure against his throat lessen. Without thinking, he brought his fist around, crashing it into his friend's body. He wasn't sure where he was hitting but he didn't rightfully care. Percy's eyes caught sight of a fist sailing toward his nose, giving him time to pull away Scáthach's downed form.

Scrambling to stand, he heard loud gasps from the audience when he hopped on one foot, struggling to maintain his balance. His jaw was nicely healed, which was more than he could say for his leg. From the middle of his shin down, blood poured onto the ground at a worrying rate. Frowning, he realized that his attentions hadn't been focused on healing his leg, but instead on keeping himself from being choked.

Feeling lightheaded due to blood loss, Percy focused on the leg, activating the curse and causing agony to engulf his senses.

Gods, how conflicted he was about the pain.

On one hand, he detested it. He wasn't fond of pain, no form of perverse pleasure being drawn from it. Pain was quite simply not something that he became excited over.

On the other hand, pain was what gave him strength. Through some form of sick conditioning, he'd become accustomed to associating pain with power. The more pain he felt the stronger he became.

Looking down at his leg, Percy saw most of his once-grievous injury had been healed. The skin slowly regrew over the tissue, leaving behind no sign of any wound that may have been there before. Unfortunately, his regenerative power didn't extend to clothing, which meant he was left without his shoe and the bottom part of his jeans. He sighed and gestured to his severed foot helplessly.

For a moment, it seemed that his mentor would attack him. Seconds passed before the magenta-haired woman motioned for him to do what he needed.

Percy walked to the limb and went about removing his show from the foot. Once done, he placed it on his own foot comfortably. He tossed the severed leg away from the arena. With an appreciative nod, the young man raised Anaklusmos again. Scáthach took a few tentative steps forward, her eyes never leaving Percy's form.

The son of Poseidon managed to blink before he was assaulted once again by a storm of red metal. Both warriors focused their full attention on the exchange. Their weapons slammed against one another, each blow sounding like thunder in the arena. Neither combatant stood still any longer. They moved rapidly across the concrete ground, pushing themselves off the ground to blur through the battlefield. Due to them launching themselves with one move, most of their paths were linear and unchanging. However, even then, their inane speed more than made up for the lack of variety.

Continuing his own attacks, Percy finally saw the end of the spar.

Lifting Riptide up he parried an upwards slash. His mentor was thrown off balance by the extra push he added to redirecting her spear. As Scáthach stumbled back, Percy jammed the butt of his sword into her stomach.

The woman grunted and doubled over. Her chin caught the top side of Percy's knee, sending her back once again, more disoriented than before. Moving quickly, Percy jumped to where his mentor was and grabbed the middle of her spear.

Twisting his body, he pulled Gáe Bolg up and over his shoulder, taking its owner along with it. He swung down toward the floor with his arm.

Scáthach's back impacted the ground painfully. The stone below her cracked and broke from the sheer force behind her descent. The air left her lungs faster than she could think, her ribs and spine aching horribly as she gasped for breath. Her throat tightened in panic while her diaphragm spasmed, locking up and leaving her fighting the urge to roll on the ground while she recovered.

Percy moved to her downed body, ready to hold his blade at her throat and force the yield out of her. As his foot stepped next to her hand, he felt it being jerked away, leaving him to topple over gracelessly. Landing hard on his face, the young man rolled away from his teacher in order to avoid any potential attacks. He pushed off the floor and wiped the blood from his nose, fixing the broken cartilage and letting loose an impressed nod.

Even when she was down and hurting, Scáthach was not a warrior to count defeated. He rolled his head from left to right a few times as the witch pulled herself from the floor and straightened up. Her scowl was defiant as she stared down the raven-haired Greek hero.

Metal screeched against metal once more as they met again, fighting against one another. Riptide pushed against Gáe Bolg, Percy's great strength outclassing Scáthach's by a fair margin. The woman slid back and grunted as her arms buckled back toward her. She made to change her positioning but was stopped by Percy's open palm colliding with her sternum. Her feet left the ground as she was launched backward.

Thinking quick, the witch flipped over in mid-air and managed to catch herself in an upright position. She stumbled as one hand went to grasp at her chest, twisting her shirt viciously in her palm.

Percy said nothing as he nonchalantly spun Riptide around through the air, tossing it up every now and then. His eyes were locked on his mentor, though there was no form of pain in them. Instead, they were unwavering, stony, implacable, and utterly enrapturing.

As the witch stared at his green irides, she recalled their first fight from years before.

The eyes that held his conviction to the end.

Once more, they were boring into her, unrepentant in their defiance and pride. The conviction had grown stronger, if perhaps for a different idea. There was more, however, buried within them. It was something new, something he didn't hold during their first meeting. His eyes burned with a variety of echoes that screamed of his pain, his terror, his fear, and his wonderfully intoxicating resolve.

His eyes held envy, though of what, she couldn't say.

They whispered of arrogance in his power, his visage of superiority not once cracking as he gazed upon her.

They sat on a laziness that highlighted his lack of entertainment during the fight.

They screamed of wrothful indignance that she would dare to challenge his position, venom endorsing his stormy and undulating ire.

They reflected a tinge to them that betrayed his desire for her person, no doubt recounting their heated encounter from that morning.

They betrayed his newfound overindulgence in growing his power, never being satisfied with how he was.

They condoned his selfish nature, unwilling to play the sacrifice any longer, instead allowing his greed to surface.

How his beautiful sea-green eyes could convey so much caustic, unfettered emotion, Scáthach was unsure. He had changed a great deal. Whether his change was for the better or the worse was yet to be seen. It was undeniable, though, to say that her student wasn't set on the path to ruin. Again, the ruin of his enemies or himself was undetermined, though she hoped she would never have to watch another apprentice fall prey to his own power.

And the newly founded Perseus was not just powerful.

 _He was power incarnate_.

"You can't win, Scáthach," the young man's voice called out, shaking the woman from her reverie. "I don't want to hurt you anymore, so let's just call it a draw and leave it at that."

Shaking her head, the witch stepped back. "You've done quite a bit of damage to me already today, Percy. Not all of it physical, mind you. Though you don't say it, I can see the vile poison that twists within your eyes. Years upon years of progress in your own development, all overshadowed in one night by meeting with an abomination. Yes, you wound me deeply, Percy. Such is it, that you remind me much of my former student. And for the life of me, I can't find it in myself to praise such a comparison."

Percy stepped forward, his expression solid. "Why do you say that?" He queried, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity, though it didn't translate to his visage.

"Because his story ended early. However, he was not satisfied with bringing only himself to crumble," the witch said tightly. She thinned her lips as she stared at the son of Poseidon. "Setanta took more from me than just Gáe Bolg. Fortunately, my spear was returned to me after his demise. My daughter, on the other hand, stayed dead and gone. She was lost―taken―from me, her body ripped apart and defiled by a vile goddess who cares for nothing more than her own status."

"He hurt you," Percy nodded, his eyes lowering to the ground. His face warping into a scowl so potent that even Scáthach blinked in surprise. "And you still feel the pain of loss that he brought to you, even until today. He was never worth your time, if that's really the case. All he's given you is anguish…"

Scáthach turned her head away from Percy's view, staring at the ground several feet from her position. "While it was my decision in the end that killed my daughter, his actions facilitated her death. I wish I could have found a way to dissuade him of following the path he did. My daughter, so smitten with the handsome warrior, would understandably follow him out of my domain. I should have known…"

The young man snapped his eyes from the floor to Scáthach's own countenance. Percy's voice was tainted by acrimony as his tone dropped low. "And you still feel that your comparison is justified? That I deserve to be put in the same category as the man who you claim stole your daughter from you!? Who caused you the single greatest form of trauma you've ever experienced!? Do you _really_ think _so lowly_ of me?" He hissed, his lip curling to form a snarl of anger and disdain.

Scáthach felt her mouth drop slightly at seeing the wroth in his eyes overtake the other underlying emotions. She swallowed thickly when he tightened his grip on Riptide, the veins in his arm beginning to grow slightly more pronounced as the muscles grew taut. The tension in his neck running to his jaw was unmistakable, his burning stare cutting through everything else. Both warriors stared at one another for an agonizing amount of time.

The woman went to apologize, her words on the tip of her tongue, when she saw Percy visibly deflate. He heaved a loud, burdened sigh and let his sword drop to the floor by his feet. His head fell forward as his vision locked itself on the stone below him.

A few heartbeats passed where nobody spoke. Even the crowd had gone silent from their quiet murmurings. The arena was plunged into a state of chilling stillness. Scáthach felt her heart drop at seeing the defeated form of her student, having come to an understanding that her words may have cut deeper than her spear could.

Once again, the witch of Dún Scáith wanted to express her regret. Before she could, however, Percy pocketed his hands and lifted his head. No longer did his eyes express any emotion from before, nor was his face twisted and full of rage.

Instead, he seemed tired.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. A sad smile touched his lips while he pushed his head back to stare skyward. "I probably could have handled the situation with more tact… too bad that I prefer to be direct. Besides, subtle manipulation was never my forte, and trying to do it on you would leave a bad taste in my mouth."

Bringing his head back down Percy gave an apologetic smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course, that wouldn't stop me. I have a goal, one which I'll reach for without being a scared child any longer. For years I've lived in fear… and truthfully it helped me grow into the person I am today. My strength is in part due to that fear…" He pulled one hand out of his pocket and stared at the appendage with a frown. After a second, he tightly clenched his hand into a fist.

"It's tough shit, then, that my fear won't help me now." His eyes glinted dangerously in the light and his mouth twisted into a frosty smirk. "Instead, I'll crush, rend, tear, and break _any_ aspect of fear that would block my progression into a happy person."

Swiveling his head, Percy saw many curious stares directed his way, no doubt confused about his monologue. They'd come to see a fight, which he'd intended to be the sole reason for his and Scáthach's spar. Instead, he managed to turn it into an odd harangue attempting to justify his actions. Looking around, Percy noticed that a sizeable group of campers had gathered around the arena since the fight started.

Turning his attention to his mentor, the son of Poseidon prepared himself once again. They locked eyes for a moment, during which Percy conveyed his intention to end the fight. Scáthach only narrowed her eyes in response. She had been silent through his tirade, though Percy understood that he'd interrupted her on a few occasions. Her muscles tensed as she shifted into a favorable position to push off of.

"You probably want to know why I've been so laid-back this entire fight, huh?" The young man rhetorically asked, chuckling slightly. "I'll show you why you'd lost this fight from the very start." He bent forward a bit and crooked his finger a few times, taunting his mentor. His face was presented openly as he jutted his jaw out a bit.

Scáthach huffed indignantly at the blatant provocation. Percy saw her glance down at Anaklusmos, which still lay at his feet. When his eyes met hers again, he smirked mockingly, keeping his entire form open and waiting for her attack.

The witch made good on his invitation.

She pushed off the ground with her back foot, launching herself at Percy's undefended body. She had closed half the distance when Percy made his move. He flicked his foot under the flat side of Anaklusmos, flipping the sword upward through the air. Percy grabbed the handle of the sword for a second, before spinning on his heel and throwing his weapon directly at his mentor's face.

A split-second decision saved Scáthach's life as she twisted her neck to avoid having her head cut in half. An instant later she was within Percy's guard, her forward momentum slowing down while she pushed her spear at his chest. In order to avoid having the shaft grabbed again, she had taken to choking the spear closer to the tip. It meant getting closer to her student in order to deliver a finishing blow, though it ensured that the blade-end of Gáe Bolg struck true.

Just as the spear-tip touched his sternum, cold metal bit into the front of her neck. The woman stopped dead in her tracks as she felt the edge of a blade sink further into her skin. Her breath came short and shallow as a few rivulets of warm blood traced down to the collar of her shirt.

Percy's face was set into a bright smile as he pulled Algos away from his mentor. The blade vanished from his grasp a moment later, returning to concept and freeing up both of Percy's hands. The young man playfully swatted Gáe Bolg to the side with the back of his hand and winked at Scáthach's surprised expression.

He won. Even if her spear pierced him, it would have hit above his heart. He could have healed such a wound. She, on the other hand, would have been decapitated. Not quite an even trade.

With a quick kiss to the tip of her nose, Percy waved his finger back and forth in a manner of mock chastisement. "Really now, Scáthach? Did you already forget that I can materialize another sword at will? You should have been more careful, since if that was a real fight your head would be at my feet."

The witch of Dún Scáith gave her apprentice a dry glance. "I don't need you patronizing me for my mistakes," she pouted, looking away from Percy's wiggling eyebrows.

"Mhm, I know you don't. But I've been waiting to say this for so long, it's worth irritating you a bit," Percy replied flippantly.

"Say what?"

Percy cleared his throat dramatically. When he spoke he forced his voice to go deeper than normal. "The circle is now complete. When I left Purgatory, I was but the learner… now _I_ am the master."

Scáthach blinked, a hint of remembrance gracing her brain as she felt the response tickle the tip of her tongue. It took her a quick second before she responded to Percy's reference. "Only a master of trickery, Percy."

Chuckling lightly, the young man gave an insincere shrug. "All's fair in love and war, my beautiful mentor. Besides, you gave me a wet willy once when we were sparring a few months ago, just to throw me off," Percy shivered as he recalled the act. "It's hardly my fault that you let yourself get blindsided by Algos. Your head wasn't in the game and you let your personal feelings interfere with the decisions you made. If you were thinking tactically, you'd have realized that I don't typically taunt my opponents unless I know it'll work. Which is exactly why I've never done it to you before, because there'd be no point."

"Tch, get over yourself," the woman replied, softly elbowing her student in the ribs. "I see your point, so you can stop lording your victory in this one spar over me." Scáthach's eyes swept over Percy's form, soft pride glowing within which the young man caught. "Good job, though, in finding a psychological edge to exploit. You took your time, not pressing me too hard actually proved a boon to the overall battle. You planned this out from the start."

"I did," he acknowledged with a nod. "From our discussion earlier, I knew that even though you wanted to act normally, you were bothered and uneasy by my ultimatum. It didn't take a genius to figure that you were pissed at me, though you tried to deny it. I just had to push the right buttons and even the most stoic battle-hardened fighter would let their emotion creep into the fight. It was only a matter of time, which meant keeping the fight going and not just using my power to break you from the start."

Percy gestured to the crowd around them, who were clamoring to one another with palpable excitement. He turned to the campers and stared at the congregation, most of them too caught in their own conversations and animated gestures for them to notice his eyes were analyzing them. From the corner of his mouth, the son of Poseidon whispered, "There were also too many bodies around. Collateral damage wouldn't help to gain their trust. Corpses would only make us look bad."

Raising one hand in a calming gesture, the Hero of Olympus worked a smile onto his face. Slowly, the noise began to diminish. One by one, campers noticed Percy's hand, halting their discussions to see what he had to say. Those who didn't stop themselves were quietly reprimanded by those around them, eventually spreading the peace to more and more groups. Soon, the sporadic chatting dwindled until only the barest of murmurs could be heard.

The Greek hero nodded in appreciation. "Thanks for coming to our first performance. You can buy tickets for our next show, which will be in Barcelona, in the coming months."

A few snickers and giggles rang out, causing Percy to wince. "Ouch, tough crowd. Okay, enough of that. Let's see… uh… hello to all of you that I'm seeing again. It's been a long time, I guess. By now, you've probably heard of what happened a couple days ago through your counselors. If not, well, I guess it sucks to be you, since nobody thought you were important enough to inform. To those who I've never met before, which includes campers brought here within the past five years or those of you that never bothered to talk to me before that, I'd like to introduce myself formally."

The young man began to leisurely walk back and forth as he spoke. "Name's Percy Jackson, or as most immortals prefer to call me, _Perseus Ajax Jackson_. But please, I'd really rather you just call me Percy, Perce, or my old superhero name, H₂Overlord. While I prefer the last one―because c'mon, what a badass name―any of those are better than calling me Perseus, or just staring awkwardly at my awesomeness. If you stare at me, I'll stare back with one-hundred times the intensity and awkwardness…"

"Alright, with that out of the way, why don't we get down to brass tacks?" He asked, taking a deep breath. "We've got a long, troubling road ahead of us. Two days ago, I went to Olympus and had a talk with our parents. Er, the Olympians, I should say, not the minor gods. Anyway, long story short, the Greeks and Romans are gonna fight another war. Yes, it was me who convinced them. Now, since it was me who suggested war, I feel kinda responsible for your lives. Therefore, I'll be here helping you prepare along with my wonderful mentor, Scáthach the God-Slayer."

The noise had picked up again, causing Percy to sigh and shake his head. He summoned Algos and raised it above his head, waving the sword around a bit to catch attention. He felt ridiculous as a weapon used to crush his enemies was instead utilized as a shiny eye-catcher. Soon, the gathered campers had simmered down and were looking at the son of Poseidon anxiously. Letting Algos shimmer out of view, Percy cleared his throat and gave everybody a pointed stare.

"As I was saying… I'll be training you. I dunno if things have changed since I was last here, but if it's okay with Chiron then starting tomorrow I'll be available from seven in the morning to five in the afternoon, helping those who would like to be helped. Meet me at the Mess Hall at breakfast tomorrow if you're interested. I'll see about creating separate blocks for beginners in sword handling, those with practical training but no real combat experience, those with experience fighting monsters and more formal training, and then the veterans of the past two wars…"

The young man clapped his hands together, falling into an easy grin. "Scáthach will be helping any spear wielders out there. Trust me, she's one of the best fighters you'll ever meet, so don't be worried about getting 'inferior' training or anything like that. Thanks for paying attention and please spread the word to any friends you may have that weren't here. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some planning to do."

The chattering began to pick up once more until it grew into a raging din. People began to crowd together as the excitement reached new heights. He ran a skeptical eye over the throng, noting that there were many younger children among the slightly mature. Sighing, he realized that no matter how he tried, casualties would be inevitable.

For the first time… he couldn't bring himself to care very much.

* * *

A few lights illuminated the walls and gleamed on the hardwood floors.

Percy ran a finger over a dusty nightstand in Cabin 3. Or rather, over the nightstand he'd once used. A few random items cluttered the small wooden table, none of which held any special sentiment for the son of Poseidon.

He wondered why the harpies hadn't been in his cabin to clean, as they did regularly throughout the camp.

Displayed on the wall over his bed was the minotaur horn. He chuckled softly as he took the severed horn from its pegs and examined it in the light. If he knew then how easy killing the minotaur was compared to his more recent achievements, he might never have put the damn trophy up as a signal of victory. He'd nearly died their first fight, true, but fighting such a dumb creature again would be no contest.

Percy placed the horn back on the pegs and sat down on his bed, facing the four women who formed a semicircle around him. Mentally, he found it amusing that four different colors of hair blocked his vision of basically everything else. Three sets of eyes occasionally wandered to his right temple, their unasked questions easy to imply.

It had been good luck that as he was leaving the arena the two women he'd wanted to speak with were directly in his line of sight. It hadn't taken much convincing for them to follow him back to his cabin so they could hold a conversation. He'd only needed to flash them the new mark on his face and they were more than ready to listen. Along the way, Hestia had caught up to them and asked to be included as well, which Percy had no objections toward.

"Thanks for coming along with me," Percy started, glancing between Annabeth and Thalia. The two nodded in acknowledgment. He gestured to his temple with two fingers. "You're probably wondering just how I managed to screw myself over this time. Let me just say, that this was only fifty-percent my own fault. Heck, I'd even go lower… maybe forty-eight-percent my fault."

Thalia snorted in disbelief. "Knowing you it was probably all your own fault. Who or what did you piss off this time?" Her voice belied her perturbed nature along with her eyes. Percy could see that the hunter looked only one breath away from either punching him or caressing the side of his face. Truthfully, he'd prefer the latter, though he couldn't blame her for the former.

The green-eyed hero deadpanned. "I'll have you know, that I don't get on _everybody's_ bad side. I'm just a poor misunderstood soul doing his best to live in this harsh world." Percy rolled his eyes.

"Are you okay? That looks fairly… erm… _fresh_ , for lack of a better word," Annabeth stated, narrowing her eyes as she bent forward slightly. She tilted her from side to side as she examined the wound, her mouth moving slowly as she mumbled incoherent words under her breath. "Very fresh… and quite unpleasant to stare at. Like a cattle brand… though there are noticeable differences."

"I'm fine," Percy replied. "It hurt like a bitch when it was being given to me, true, but now it's just… there. I can't feel it unless I'm touching it directly."

Hestia hummed into her hand, staring at the floor in thought.

"Some deep shit went down last night. Let me explain the situation that led up to me getting the mark and realizing the truth about my ambitions." Percy said.

The next hour was spent recounting the details of Percy's previous day. He left nothing out about his encounters, going into more depth that he did with Scáthach and his family. Since he knew his parent's had been running on a schedule that morning, Percy hadn't elaborated on everything, such as his thoughts and introspections into the words of the abomination. He'd also excluded his own opinion on the tentacle-monster's ideology. However, with his time restraints lifted, he was free to say what he felt, thought, and how it affected him.

"So yeah…" Percy finished lamely, scratching his chin. "That happened. Trust me, it sounds a lot cooler than it actually was. This… thing… it was terrifying. I've never felt more insignificant in my entire life. I've met some impressive figures in the past but… yeah… meeting the Face Eater was totally _not_ tubular."

The young man looked around. Everybody had long since taken a seat, his exposition having taken a considerable amount of time. Scáthach had chosen to sit on his desk chair, Annabeth on the bed opposite of his own, Thalia next to him on the bed, and Hestia on the floor. Their expressions carried the weight of his words. Thalia and Annabeth would occasionally steal glances toward one another, which Percy caught.

Hestia seemed troubled in her spot, one hand gripping the edge of her robe while the other was placed over her mouth. The goddess' eyes were narrowed and darting across the floor in rapid bursts of heated passion.

"Something on your mind, Hestia?" He directed his attention to his favorite aunt. Her antsy movements stopped when she looked at him, though there was still a bare trace of concern in her eyes.

"Those names that the… uh… Bathtub Barracuda-"

Thalia snickered in the background, hiding her grin with her elbow and faking a cough.

"-mentioned to you. They were Face Eater, Faceless Wanderer, Gauntice Flag… were there any more by chance? Do you know anything else about this abomination?" The goddess asked, ignoring the daughter of Zeus.

Percy closed his eyes and thought back to the conversation with Bathtub Barracuda. Nothing else popped out to him, though his mind turned to his meeting with N in Tartarus. There were a few things that caught his attention during _that_ particularly _disjointed_ discussion.

"Yeah… an old acquaintance once said that he stalked the stars. He was legion. Faceless… deathless… drifting between planes. He was one-thousand or something like that. Not to mention that both my acquaintance, N, and the abomination seemed had major hard-ons for chaos," Percy said while frowning. "Chaos this and chaos that. Chaos out the ass. Crawling chaos-"

"Crawling Chaos!?" Hestia snapped suddenly, pushing herself off the floor and invading her nephew's personal space in a blur. Her nose brushed against his own, startling the young man with how quickly she had managed to move.

Percy swallowed as his vision flickered down to his aunt's lips for scarcely a fraction of a second. Almost immediately, he forced the part of his conscience that was _thinking_ about committing such an act into the furthest reaches of his brain.

His reluctance was not due to incestuous taboos. He was descended from the Greek gods, who for the most part didn't really care for adhering to common mortal conceptions about incest. Immortals rarely worried about their children having defects due to inbreeding―excluding Hephaestus, for whom no clear evidence can be pointed to―and their psychological profiles tended to differ from typical humans, thereby eliminating any form of reverse sexual imprinting. It was odd that it translated over to demigods as well, however, many half-bloods tended to romantically involve themselves with another half-blood cousin. Dating between half-siblings was seen as only mildly weird, which helped highlight some of the oddities in demigod nature.

No, Percy's reluctance stemmed from three other factors. First being that there were unresolved issues― _very large ones_ ―still at hand. Should he have taken his aunt's lips as he'd been tempted to do, things would have played out poorly for his overall goal. At the very least, it would have set his progress back a few steps.

The second came in the form of his own confusion. He wasn't sure why he'd even thought about his aunt in a romantic sense. He was close to her, true, however he never indulged in sexualizing her to satisfy himself. She was always just… Aunt Hestia, the kindest of all the Olympians. The Last of the Olympians. The primal lust directed toward Hestia had vanished as instantly as it had come, though there were whispers still flitting in his head. He needed time to sit and reflect on his desire, prior to him doing something that could very well damage their relationship. He would not be happy if that were to happen.

The final reason, which was equally as important, involved Hestia's chosen appearance. Eight years old was too young for Percy to even consider any form of romantic gestures. Sure, he knew that Hestia was older than him by a very sizeable margin but he'd be damned if he tried to get into a child's pants. Physical attraction was a part of a relationship, no matter what anybody said. Her older form was much more appealing at any rate.

Percy was many things. A cradle-robber was not among them.

"Yeah, Crawling chaos… what's the problem?" The son of Poseidon asked, backing his head up a few inches. His eyes managed to catch sight of Scáthach's suspicious glare directed at Hestia. He turned to the side and saw Thalia raising an eyebrow at the goddess' proximity.

Hestia grabbed Percy by the chin and forced his head to face her. The girl's eyes burned bright orange and her words came colder than he'd ever heard before. "Are. You. Sure?"

"I don't know if I want to be sure anymore," he replied with concern, cheeks slightly pushed together because of Hestia's grip on his face. The vice became tighter and her eyes became nearly insufferable to stare at. "Uncle, Uncle! Yes, I'm pretty sure that N mentioned the chaos that crawls onto my lap… a crawling chaos."

The goddess released his face and leaned back, rubbing her eyebrows tiredly. "Nyarlathotep. Once again, it makes its presence known."

"Nyarlathotep?" Percy parroted. "Is that what he's called?"

"The Crawling Chaos," Annabeth stated slowly, her head bobbing up and down at the realization. "The Stalker of the Stars, The Dark Pharaoh, The Face Eater, The God of a Thousand Forms… it makes sense… I thought he was a fictional god though. I've never heard of anybody else mentioning him as a real deity."

"Nobody likes to speak of… it. At least not in our pantheon," Hestia explained patiently. "We, the Greeks, that is to say, first met it a few months before the Trojan War began. Nyarlathotep came to us shrouded in mystery, mired in undulating grotesquerie, and baying at our conceived notions of the macabre nature when related to unmitigated rampancy. It took the form of a sickly, cancerous amalgamation of flesh and blood. Its tissue was bulbous, rippling like there were a myriad of separate functions beneath the skin. It had not only one face, but multiple, stitched across its entire form in a collage of inhuman grief. None of the gods granted it entrance into Olympus, some too prideful to sully their eyes with such a vile creature, others fearful of such naturally heinous aura. As ashamed as I am to admit it, even I scorned the creature for its propensity toward the unearthly and alien."

Percy exchanged looks with the other occupants of the room. Hestia paused and collected her memories, massaging the bridge of her nose slowly.

"It stayed at the foot of our mountain for several consecutive days and nights. Zeus eventually relented and sent Iris to speak with the creature. When she came back, she refused to see with anybody. Instead, she left Olympus that same hour and nobody could find her, no matter how hard we looked. On the tenth day, we finally admitted Nyarlathotep into our city. With its audience gathered, the Crawling Chaos warned us of a great schism that had the potential to tear the Greek pantheon apart. We scoffed." Hestia stated, shaking her head.

"Nyarlathotep simply said the choices made in the coming months would decide the outcome of its prophetic vision. Contrary to popular belief, it was Nyarlathotep who told Zeus that eventually his own son would become more powerful than him. This is one of the main reasons that Zeus does not prefer the company of his own wife, Hera, or any other goddess: so that his newer children won't be born as gods, reducing their threat to his rule by a substantial margin."

Thalia scowled at that, clenching her hands as her jaw tightened. Percy clasped a hand over her fist, flashing her a small smile. The young man could understand his cousin's anger. After all, it was due to his own cowardice that Zeus caused the suffering of so many of his former children. While Percy couldn't say that he was any better in terms of bravery, he still held the God of the Sky accountable for his actions. After all, Percy hadn't gotten any action for the full twenty-three years of his life. That Zeus couldn't restrain his base urges for a time was quite disgruntling.

"We laughed in its face, ridiculing the creature for its impertinence in coming to the greatest of the gods just to spout nonsense," Hestia continued, shuddering softly as she wrapped her arms around herself. Her voice dropped into that of a harsh whisper. "It was then that Nyarlathotep looked at us. A single… unbelievably disgusting eye opened on its body, staring at each of us without restraint. Allow me to say, that facing my father during the Second Titanomachy was the most terrifying thing I've ever done; however, nothing's inspired more disgust and revulsion in me than seeing Nyarlathotep in such a state."

The cabin grew silent as each person took their time to process the information. Percy noticed his aunt's eyes were unfocused, peering beyond what lay before her. The memory must have been a vile one, should her reaction reach such a level. No doubt, he'd always remember meeting the abomination, the dialogue between them forever etched into the forefront of his brain.

Nyarlathotep.

He wasn't sure what to make of such a name.

"Eventually, it left, having said nothing more after observing us," the goddess began again. "Zeus… was left paranoid and shaken… undoubtedly he made his choice right then and there for ensuring he would not have his title usurped by his own flesh and blood. He consulted with Themis and hatched a 'brilliant' plan with her advice. Even with the Crawling Chaos' words in mind, Zeus still planned for the Trojan War to start. He knew that the conflict could split our pantheon, as it very nearly did. His selfishness almost tore our family apart. In the end, that creature's premonitions had come to pass. The schism formed as gods took sides in the war, either with the Greeks or the Trojans. We came so close to open warfare among ourselves…"

The son of Poseidon thought for a moment before he guffawed and slapped his thigh. "That fucking dick-monger knew what he was doing the whole time! He incited the fear in Zeus, spilling the blood of countless people without lifting a damn finger. He just said some mumbo-jumbo about a 'prophecy' or some shit and things go to hell-in-a-handbasket! Gods have the impulse control of a fucking walnut, I swear. Wait… walnuts aren't sentient… are they? Either way, walnuts don't count. Gods have the impulse control of children."

"Cold-blooded," Annabeth stated drearily.

The dry expression on both her and Hestia's face made Percy backtrack. "Not… er… not all immortals," he defended lamely, waving a hand placatingly. "I wasn't aiming that at you guys. You're both great… but come on, there are just too many examples of divine bullshittery to ignore. This really shouldn't come as a surprise."

His words seemed to mollify both goddesses, letting him breathe a small sigh of relief. Percy took a moment to glance at Thalia and Scáthach, seeing both of them nodding with his words. A smug smirk touched his lips at seeing both women agree with him.

Percy's expression fell though, when he recalled his resolve. He sat forward and intertwined his fingers, sighing softly through his nose and closing his eyes. His mind raced as he tried to find a good way to break the news to both Annabeth and Thalia. He'd learned already that his tact was perhaps in need of revising after Scáthach's reaction to his ultimatum. While his normally direct approach _could_ work, it was more likely to go over worse with his two long-time friends than with his mentor.

If things went well, his goal would basically be in his grasp. It was a gamble, but he wouldn't fail to find the reality. His truths would bring him to the end, and when he finally died, his truths would have pointed to him finding happiness, even if only for a moment.

' _So close… why am I still worried then? If they want to be with me, even at the sake of having me completely for themselves then I could be happy. Right? Of course… yeah… if I want to then yes. This conflict though… it'll cause trouble for me. We're all gonna be fighting… and there's a chance they could…'_

Percy's jaw clenched at the sudden realization.

He'd been so enraptured with the thought of finding happiness with the women he loved, that the reality of their mortality crashed into him like a chilling wind. As long as the conflict between Spenta and Angra lasted, those he loved would be in danger. Then there were the problems of Apophis, Surtr, and whatever was happening with the Hindus. Killing both Zoroastrian spirits wouldn't solve those problems. They were autonomous, not reliant on the power of Spenta Mainyu or one another.

More issues stacking on top of the pre-existing ones.

' _Will there ever be a stop to all this war?'_ Percy furiously questioned, gritting his teeth and snarling. ' _Every time I think things are calming down, something else pops up and escalates shit again.'_

It was becoming clear that he needed to find a way to stop conflict from arising altogether. He needed to make sure that nothing could bother him or those he loved.

Nothing could threaten his happiness.

Nothing _would_ threaten his happiness if he had anything to say about it.

What could he do about stopping conflict from tearing apart his peace, though? He was one person―a mortal no less―living in a world populated by the divine and the supernatural. Even with all his power, Percy understood that he could be killed.

In fact, not only was it possible, but very likely should he be careless in handling events that were beyond him. There were only two viable options that he could see.

He could gain a following, people who thought similarly to him in order to peacefully subjugate warmongers and violent individuals. This would work best when considering his current predicament. He was strong, however he couldn't keep the peace if the gods were out from under his eye, or if they simply didn't respect him enough to follow his direction. If he managed to garner a group, a large conglomeration of powerful individuals who listened to him and who understood that peace was beneficial for everybody involved, then he could delegate some of the burdens on them as well.

The other path he could choose would require him becoming stronger. Far stronger than he already was. He would need power beyond his current scope, enough to intervene should conflict begin to brew. He would need to become so much _more._ Time had proven that a gods' mindset was fundamentally extreme and flawed. Many deities embodied their domains to a fault, much like a half-bloods Fatal Flaw. Unlike a half-blood, however, a god was typically too embroiled in their own arrogance and sense of self to consider tempering their zealotry.

' _That's it then!'_ Percy snapped his head up with wide eyes. ' _The best way to prevent more war and pointless death is to grow stronger! I have to be ready to stop them, show them that I won't tolerate any kind of world that endangers my loved ones. I need power then… I need all the power I can get.'_

He chuckled softly to himself and shook his head. ' _Such a straightforward concept, but it's gonna be difficult to actually do. World peace. That has a nice ring to it. I'm sure I'd be happy with my conscience knowing that I'd stopped conflict from ever happening.'_

It had been so simple that he nearly slapped himself for not seeing it before.

Or rather, he'd seen it, he just hadn't wanted to actually go through with it. His experiences with Luke and Ethan blinded him to the necessity of strength. He'd been scared of doing everything to reach his goal, condemning his truths in order to claw forward, only to fail in the end.

Now, though, he needed more power to change the world… and to give himself peace of mind. His lovers would be out of harm's way, which would allay his fears of losing them to thoughtless violence. In the end, he wouldn't fail. That was not an option.

He didn't know if he would make the right choice, but it wouldn't stop him.

"Percy," Thalia shook his shoulder roughly, bringing the young man back to reality. Blinking, he found four pairs of eyes set worriedly on his face.

"Were we talking about something?" He asked, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "No, but there was an awkward pause in the conversation. You spaced out on us, though your eyes looked… intense…" The word seemed to stick in her throat, not quite wanting to escape. The blonde coughed lightly into her hand and crossed her arms.

Scáthach spoke next, garnering Percy's attention. "Quite so. It was almost like a lightbulb went off over your head, the way you snapped up suddenly with such… _passionate_ vigor." The woman let her gaze wander from his face down his body with intrigue tinting her expression.

"From where I was sitting it looked like you'd been shocked," Thalia nodded, a frown on her face. "Which I know that I didn't do. Your eyes though…" A shiver ran across her body. "Woah."

The son of Poseidon quirked an eyebrow at each of the women. He wondered how he must have looked like to elicit such a response. "I had a few things on my mind. I think I've got them resolved now, though." Percy paused and closed his eyes. "Well, not all of them. Annabeth, Thalia, I need to talk to you."

The blonde goddess and raven-haired hunter exchanged looks. Hestia silently moved out of the way and toward one side of the cabin. Scáthach stood and turned the chair around. She sat back down with her legs apart and her arms on the back of the seat, leaning on her hands as she waited expectantly for Percy to say something.

"Uh, is this something that should be said in private?" Thalia asked, pointing at both the Goddess of the Hearth and the witch of Dún Scáith with confusion. "'Cuz I'm getting that vibe but for some reason, these two are still here."

Percy pursed his. "Well, both of them are… kinda involved in this discussion. Scáthach is very much a major component, while Hestia is…" He looked at the goddess in question, who was doing her best to hide a bag of popcorn beneath her robes. "Well, Hestia helped spur on my decision, so I suppose it wouldn't be _too_ weird for her to stay here."

With a hesitant nod, Thalia relented. Percy looked at Annabeth, who only gestured for him to speak his mind. The young man took a moment to collect himself, his mind racing to find a good way to deliver his cruel ultimatum. His heart beat faster in his chest and sweat gathered on his palms, which he tried to wipe away on his jeans.

"You both know that I love you," he started, testing the words on his tongue gently. He met both of their gazes resolutely, though without confrontation or steel. He needed to convey his sorrow for the deterioration of his choice, not pride. Their acceptance would come easier if what he'd observed before could be trusted.

"You also know that I love Scáthach just as much," Percy continued, glancing at his slightly startled mentor. He'd never stated how deeply he felt for her out loud. Her eyes went wide for a split second before returning to their typical size. Her lip twitched, though she didn't acknowledge his words, instead opting to silently regard him. "Which has made trying to decide between you three a bitch."

"Hold it," Thalia interrupted. She held a hand up to Percy's face as she scowled heavily. "I told you what my stance on this was. Don't even think about me. You and I… we can't… it won't…"

Percy grabbed her hand and lowered it. "That's just it though," he said tersely. "We can. Who's gonna stop us? Artemis? Even if what you said was true, and she tried to hurt either of us, _I'd destroy her_ and _anybody_ who stood with her. I doubt it'd come to that, though. She cares about you, I know that much. If anything, she'd probably only be a bit disappointed. There isn't anything in the way of us being happy."

The hunter seemed surprised at her cousin's ardent words. "The way you say it… sounds like you made your choice already…" Thalia's voice was little more than a whisper as she looked at Percy's conflicted eyes. "But for some reason you don't look so sure of yourself."

"That's because I'm not sure of myself," he replied cautiously. "I love you, I really do, but it isn't fair to Annabeth or Scáthach if I disregard what they feel for me and what I feel for them. Hestia gave me an idea, and I really hope that it works out the way I want. That way, we can all have what we want. At least a part of it."

All eyes went to Hestia, who had just stuffed a handful of popcorn into her mouth. The sudden stares caught the goddess off guard. She chewed slowly, placing the bag away behind her and swallowing what was in her mouth already. Dabbing at her mouth with a napkin, she cleared her throat and nodded her head. "Yes, I've given Percy a solution which, while imperfect, could result in everybody being happy. Of course, he'd get the best out of the deal, but I do think that he deserves all the happiness that he can get."

A tense silence followed the goddess' declaration. Percy was hesitant to say anything out loud, carefully considering his words so as to soften the blow. While his mind ran a mile-a-minute, Annabeth palmed her face loudly.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" She exclaimed. The blonde's agitated response caused Percy to chew his lip lightly. It didn't surprise him that she'd already pieced together the situation by the context alone. Her gray eyes sharpened and flew to Percy. "A poly relationship? Really, Percy? I never expected something like that being suggested by _you_ , of all people."

Percy felt a weight leave his bed. Thalia had gotten up and moved to stand next to the bed where Annabeth still sat. Sighing to himself, the young man leaned forward and mustered his voice. "I know that this isn't the ideal situation for you. Trust me, _I understand_. But with this war, do we really have the time or luxury to sit and mope around if we potentially lose something good? We could all very well die. The odds aren't exactly stacked in anybody's favor right now. Shouldn't we all have a chance to get what we want if that does happen? At least have a taste of being happy? I don't want to hurt _any_ of you."

"Was making a single decision really _so difficult_ that you would ask for something so selfish?" Annabeth asked, crossing her arms and shaking her head. "I get that it must be hard, but people do it all the time, Percy. Yes, it would hurt the other two, but we can live through it. Unless you don't think we're strong enough to move on from a little emotional pain."

"I did make a decision," he stated. "I realized that I want to be happy above all else. My decision is the best way to find that. You see, I chose not to choose. Instead, I'm letting you guys make the choice. I won't be with only one or two of you. I want it all." Percy's gaze cut through the room easily as he met the eye of each woman. "I'm selfish, true. I'm hypocritical, yeah. I'm an ass, also true. What I'm not, is complacent. Not any longer."

Thalia's face had settled into a frown as she leaned against the wall. Her eyes fell to Scáthach, who was simply observing the conversation with apathy. "Why aren't you reacting to this?"

The witch shrugged. "He already gave me his little spiel earlier today. I gave him my response at the same time. Besides that, I'm proud that he no longer allows himself to wallow in complacency."

Hestia turned to the magenta-haired woman. "That fast? What was your decision?"

"You misunderstand. My response was that I'd think about his proposal."

Annabeth thinned her lips. "So either all of us agree to be with you or you won't accept anybody? What kind of pseudo-noble goal does that lead you getting closer to? You're asking us to… _share_ … you between ourselves. How would it make you feel if we did the same thing with other people?"

Percy felt his mouth grow sour at the thought. His face twisted into an ugly scowl, breaking the façade of sentimentality. It took him a moment to regain his composure, taking deep breaths to put out the fire that had ignited itself in his stomach. The burning faded slowly, seeming to desire nothing less than eating away at his entire being. In the end, Percy managed to rein in the flurry of caustic emotion that poisoned his thoughts.

"Like I said," the son of Poseidon clipped. "I'm a selfish person. I've found the answer to my dilemma and sharing was _never_ one of my strong suits. I know it sounds unfair… in fact, it is completely unfair… but I'm not a saint for fuck's sake."

"That much is obvious," Thalia muttered. She directed her attention to Scáthach. "How can you be okay with this? You hardly seem to care at all that this moron is willing to split his love between three people."

Scáthach glanced in Percy's direction. He looked back with a raised eyebrow. The witch hummed. "I care about him very much. I know that he deserves to be happy, after what he's gone through. True, he's an ass, but I still… I… I still love him. Whether I could accept his ultimatum or not weighed on my mind throughout the morning, though I think… I have an answer now."

Percy swallowed the smile that threatened to break out on his face. He kept his hopes detained as he stared at his mentor inquisitively.

"Your words weren't wrong, you know," Scáthach said. "We could all very well die fighting. For us, this is not a battle of ideals. This is a battle for survival. Our only stake in this war is continuing to live. If we fail, only the abyss will greet us in the end. Due in part to my own mortality, as well in part to my emotions in regard to you, I believe it's in my best interest to accept what you've put forward."

Relief slammed into Percy with such tremendous might that he found himself surprised. He hadn't realized that he'd been holding in such an unhealthy amount of anxiety over his mentor's decision. It was to be expected, true, yet feeling Scáthach's words calm his nerves so effectively startled him. In the end, he accepted what she'd said with a nod of the head, letting the smallest of grins touch his lips.

He wanted to do so much more. To jump and holler in joy, to grab Scáthach and twirl her around as he laughed uproariously, to push her down onto the bed and finish what he'd started earlier that morning.

While the desires were tempting, he fought back a larger reaction, knowing that it was too early for any kind of celebration. There were two factors that remained in play, even if he'd have liked nothing more than to call it done. His resolve to keep them all for himself would not dwindle in the face of a slight victory. If anything, it needed to grow stronger. If one of them rejected him now, it would be ever-so-easy to just break his own promise and to compromise with his mentor.

"Well, that's an unexpected surprise," Annabeth mused. Her expression slid into a pensive frown. "You, out of the rest of us, seemed to have the strongest character. For some reason, I doubted that you would accept this so easily, without much hassle and whatnot."

"And what am I, chopped liver?" Thalia asked with a roll of the eyes. "Or you for that matter?"

Annabeth snorted and dismissively waved the question away. "We haven't lived for two-thousand years, killed several gods, and served the Zoroastrian God of Evil for most our lives. She's wiser than most, more patient than most, stronger than most―in a variety of ways at that. She's unarguably beautiful, and obviously, Percy sees something in her, which means she can't be a terrible person. If she wanted, I bet she could have her choice of men. That she would decide to do this… _thing_ … shows that she wants Percy. She must care for him a great deal, just like she says."

Thalia held her hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, you've made your point, jeez. Gods, this is so weird. Why am I even here, actually considering this… this…" she gestured around the cabin with frustration lacing her movements. "This fucking awkward bullshit?"

"Because you love him," Hestia spoke up, giving her niece a warm smile. "I may not be able to sense these things as well as Aphrodite, however it's clear to me that you very much _want_ to be with Percy. All you're doing now is fighting the fear that he will eventually get tired of you, or that he won't give you all the love you _desire_ if he was with other women. I can't speak for him, obviously, but I don't think that he would have given you all this choice without first having considered your own feelings first. I'm sure he understands that he needs to treat you all equally, giving you each the attention, care, and love that you all _deserve_. It will, in fact, be difficult for him to do so, no doubt. Trying to juggle multiple people at once, making each of them happy is no small feat. He will be hard pressed, but I have faith that he can do nearly anything he sets his mind too."

The kind goddess' head turned―almost mechanically so―in order to give Percy a very dangerous stare. "After all, I'm sure my nephew _wouldn't want to disappoint me_."

' _Spooky.'_ Percy's eyebrows shot into his hairline as hellfire burned in Hestia's eyes. ' _Very spooky indeed.'_

"You put it in words that I probably never could," the son of Poseidon admitted bitterly. "Never been good with words, more with swords. Actions, I guess you could argue." He looked between Annabeth, Thalia, and Scáthach. "I love each of you and I know that you're each probably worried about how you'd fit into the bigger picture. Let me say that I'd do my damnedest to make you each feel like I actually cared, not just like you were another cog in the wheel, another brick in the wall."

He pushed himself off the bed and stretched his limbs. "I understand that you'll need time to think this over, Thalia, Annabeth. Actually, I _want_ you to take your time to look at this from all perspectives. If it's the same to you, I think I'm gonna change into a new outfit, considering mine is in tatters thanks to my mentor."

"I can't lie, this isn't what I was expecting," Annabeth stated, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "That said, I'll consider your words. It's the least I can do for you... looking at the past..."

Thalia rubbed her forehead tiredly. "You don't exactly know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Percy. Still, I was never looking for a prince charming to come rescue me. You drive a hard bargain, and you're not as bad with words as you make yourself out to be. That being said, I need more time to think about this. I care about you, yeah, but... just... this is a lot to deal with."

The son of Poseidon gave both women appreciative smiles. "I understand. Thanks for listening to what I had to say. Now if you don't mind, I have a date with a shower and a new set of clothes," he added with a nod, turning and walking out the door with a wave behind him.

The four women shared confused glances between one another. Annabeth sighed and held up her hand, all five fingers splayed out. She began to put each finger down as the seconds passed. Once her thumb fell, Percy re-entered the room, his expression unreadable and his voice bland when he spoke.

"This is my cabin."

* * *

 **A/N: I hope people enjoy short time-skips, cause next chapter we gonna get some. With the narrative reaching it's mid-point, more focus will shift onto the struggle for world dominance or whatever villains like to do and events will also become more militaristic. Is everybody excited for character death as much as I am? Yay. I guess.**


	18. You're the Devil in Disguise

**A/N: Only 10k words!? I'm losing my touch. Anyway, I'm thinking about changing my review response to direct correspondence, instead of next-chapter replies. It would get rid of some page length as well as put the word-count closer to what it actually was. I'm sure some people might prefer such a system, while also giving faster responses and more privacy to have conversations should one so choose.**

 _ **Reviews-**_

 **some fucking random guy: Moister than an oyster baby.**

 **Death Fury: Thanks for the kind words. You know what the old proverb says, "the road to hell is paved with good intentions." Sometimes it takes another perspective to be added to the mix for somebody to learn that what they are doing is wrong and that in their arrogance of believing they were doing the right thing, all they did was make things worse.**

 **drbakerarcho2008: Thank you for the review and your kind words. More fights are on the horizon, though some of them will just go faster for Percy than others. It all depends on his opponent.**

 **theweird1234: Quite right!**

 **TheYoLOMan: I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! Yeah, you spelled Scathach correctly.**

 **saske92ii: A rock and a hard place, as they might say, is where Percy finds himself. You're right, of course, that the deaths that would have the most impact would come from those Percy interacts with and cares for in some way. Worry not, the Fates aren't gonna be killing anybody in this story. Percy would rather burn the world before he lets his loved ones get hurt. Glad you're liking the story so far!**

 **Trigger-Happy Texan: You're right that the next serious foe Percy faces won't be having a fun time. My top crackship might be Pera, though I've gotta wonder about doing a less serious Fem!Kronos x Percy story. Thanks for the review!**

 **Altair25: Hey, these kinds of stories could always use more love in my opinion. I'm happy you're enjoying the story so far, thanks for the review!**

 **NONAME2002: Yup! Azathoth will be mentioned, though not directly included into the story. For anybody who knows about Azathoth, they can just assume he's still asleep, since according to the Greater Lovecraftian Mythos, he can basically erase the universe by sneezing. Too powerful to incorporate properly.**

 **Shigure Toshiro: Thanks for the review!**

 **divineboss2000: Glad you liked it!**

 **MasterTrident: The price of peace is always going to come at the cost of conflict. It's a vicious cycle. Perhaps if humanity became a Hive-Mind biomass of collective consciences then there could be peace. Eh, maybe not even then. Thanks for the review and your continued support!**

 **Sibyis Langdon: Thanks for your kind words of support!**

 **Kindred Scarlet: When writing I couldn't find a good spot to fit that in there. Gotta have the proper flow so that the dialogue doesn't veer off oddly. I'm glad you enjoyed last chapter though.**

 **Six Foot Assassin: I think we can all agree that kittens are dangerous. Perhaps the kitten doesn't want to be saved. Either way, thanks for the feedback.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not make any money off this work of fanfiction. All rights for the characters in Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus go to Rick Riordan and all who were involved in the creation of the novels.**

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18\. You're the Devil in Disguise

* * *

A large hand slammed in front of the lone occupant of the Poseidon table. Percy's plate full of food jumped an inch into the air before crashing to the floor, spilling his breakfast. The young man grimaced at seeing the spilled milk. He couldn't cry over it, that much he knew, so he ignored the impulse. Instead, he chose to look at Clarisse, who removed her hand from his table and crossed her arms.

The daughter of Ares hadn't changed much since he'd last seen her. Her face was slightly longer and she had a new scar running from the corner of her mouth to her jaw. Apart from that, he'd be able to recognize her anywhere.

"Clarisse," Percy intoned, glancing at the broken plate on the ground. "What a surprise. Last I heard you were at the University of… what was it… California? No, Arizona? You have something to say or was this just your special way of saying welcome back to me?"

The girl stared long and hard, her beady eyes never leaving Percy's own. "I graduated, still haven't found out what to do with my degree though. Came back here to see how things were going, then lo-and-behold, the prodigal son comes back just a couple of days after I get here, being the bearer of bad news."

Percy met her gaze with a raised eyebrow. "Was there a question in there or were you just giving me background info? Oh, congrats on graduating by the way. Not gonna lie, I never thought you had it in you!"

"You punk. You're lucky I haven't kept up with my training, otherwise I'd turn you into a cream puff," Clarisse replied with a growl, though a small smirk crossed her face. "Or maybe not. The way you fought yesterday was pretty incredible. As much as I want to pass on this war and just try to find my own way in life… well… how could I call myself a daughter of Ares if I did that? I don't like saying it, but I need your help to get back into the swing of things."

The son of Poseidon nodded. "Makes sense. After so long, I'm sure some good ol' fashioned ass kickings will bring back those razor sharp instincts of yours. You wanna be signed up for the top level or just below that?" He asked, pulling Anaklusmos and a piece of paper out of his pocket. Tapping the cap of Riptide to the handle, he transformed the sword into an actual working pen. Percy felt it odd that he had to first change his pen into a sword just to turn it back into a pen that could write. Very cumbersome indeed.

"Even if it hurts for a bit, I'd rather take the harder path," Clarisse replied calmly, her gaze hardening when she spoke. "I need a kick in the ass for being so soft even when we finally got a bit of peace… and… I guess…" She trailed off, her tone sinking uncomfortably.

Percy nodded and marked Clarisse under the appropriate category, ignoring whatever else she was about to say. "You and I walk a very lonesome road, La Rue."

At seeing the woman's quirked eyebrow he waved away her impending question. "Forget it, not important. What I meant was that we're similar in more ways than you might think, Clarisse."

The brunette's jaw fell a few inches. "Wh-"

Tired sea-green eyes met her astonished face without remorse. "Nevermind. I've had some time to think about things, so if you hear me spouting nonsensical bullshit just ignore it for the most part. The veteran's training block starts at two forty-five tomorrow afternoon, but you can come at any time really. I'd start today… but I have a few things I want to try out first. My main lessons with you guys aren't how to hold a sword, what stance to go through for fighting against certain enemies, et cetera. For us, it'll mainly be going over survival first, honor second. Then, we'll go through some friendly fights between me and the rest of you, followed by friendly fights between yourselves while I watch and point out some things that could be worked on and whatnot."

Clarisse crossed her arms and gave a stiff nod. "Good to know I ain't gonna be treated like a toddler."

"Nope. I'll be doing my best to make sure nobody feels like that, even the younger campers. Of course, I expect more out of the older generation," Percy replied noncommittally while he put away his pen and the paper. "I'm surprised there are as many of the vets as there actually are still here at camp. Katie, Lou Ellen, Drew, your brother Sherman, Butch, Miranda. I mean, there's about ten more that I remember from my time here. It's weird, I thought they'd move on and leave this place."

"You have more reason than they do to want to forget about camp," Clarisse grunted with a scowl. "And for some reason, you decided to come back even though you had no good obligation. I'm sure there's just something about this place that calls to us. Good thing the Stolls aren't here, otherwise I'd probably up and leave."

Percy hummed. "Yeah, Katie said they went their separate ways a few years back. Definitely strange that they'd split up like that, though I suppose they couldn't always be joined at the hip, pranking people for giggles. Can't say I'd blame them either, after what happened to Travis. Now if you don't mind, I need to grab more food, since you decided to spill mine all over the floor."

The daughter of Ares had the decency to look a little abashed, though she hid it well. She muttered an apology before walking out of the mess hall, leaving Percy alone again as he gathered a new meal.

His morning up until that point had gone about as well as he could have expected. Shortly after he'd stepped into the mess hall a veritable swarm of campers met him to sign themselves up for his training program. When he'd finally managed to free himself from the throngs of people asking him incoherent questions and welcoming him back after so long, the young man felt relieved.

He really didn't need people groveling to him for his good grace. In fact, he truly had no time for it. Percy understood that if he didn't temper himself, he could well end up squandering his power in arrogance. Prideful warriors tended to allow their superiority complexes to dictate the terms of a battle. In the war he found himself, Percy knew that he couldn't have lapses like that.

If he allowed himself to indulge in his pride, first he'd need to earn a spot at the top. Power was a universal language, one that all manner of creatures spoke and comprehended. He would need a lot of power to fulfill what he wanted.

The son of Poseidon gripped at the edge of his table until it cracked.

Once, long ago, he'd had great power. His status as a half-blood spawn of the sea ensured that he was formidable, frightening, even. While it didn't stop monsters from coming after him, his power had been enough to kill those who disregarded what he held.

And yet, he'd squandered his power out of fear.

Mount Saint Helens was his first wake-up call to what he could potentially do. In his panic and will to live, Percy caused an eruption the likes of which not only displaced tens of thousands of people, but also rustled Typhon from his millennia-old nap.

As more time passed, Percy came to fear his own birthright. He and Annabeth had spoken more about the extent of his abilities after the Second Titanomachy before Hera took his memories. Through her, he learned more about what he could potentially do. None of it was pretty.

The human body contained more than enough water to manipulate if he saw fit. Plasma in the body was made up of primarily water and constituted nearly fifty-five percent of a person's blood volume. There were plenty of fluids in the body that also had high water content, ranging from places like the brain, to the lungs, to the muscles, and even bones. It would be difficult, however with practice in proper manipulation, he could potentially force the water out of a person's body, boil it, or freeze it. The cruelty of causing such pain wasn't lost on him.

He'd already learned that he could 'solidify' water and form shapes that held their cohesive properties in order to do serious damage. It wouldn't be a stretch to imagine he could create weapons out of his 'solidified' water.

When he looked back, the young man shook his head at how reluctant he'd once been when it came to using his birthright to its fullest. There was so much more he could have done.

All his potential had been held back by his fear.

Under his vice-like grasp, the edge of his table shattered, sending splinters and small pieces of wood bouncing to the floor. The son of Poseidon took a deep breath when he realized that people were staring at him with apprehension in their eyes. He cleared his throat and stood up, realizing that breaking things out of anger was childish. Throwing a temper-tantrum wouldn't help him. After all, adults handled their anger in productive ways, like drinking heavily or binge-watching all ten seasons of _Friends_.

Percy left the mess hall. A hunger filled his stomach, gnawing at the rest of his person with fire and gluttonous desire. Knowing that food would never satisfy such voracity, the son of Poseidon made his way to the beach, hoping to lose himself in a long overdue session of inner acceptance.

* * *

The first few days of training went smoothly for both Percy and Scáthach. The campers, whether they be new to camp or thought of it as a permanent home, put a great deal of effort into improving themselves. For the son of Poseidon, it was a welcome sight to see so many young campers with fires burning in their eyes to prove that they could be useful. He was sure that many of them, much like many other half-bloods, never had the best home lives. Many of them found camp to be an escape from the mundane world that often mocked them for their dyslexia or their hyperactive tendencies. Away from the educational and administrative systems that often failed them, along with the teachers and caretakers that couldn't help.

Camp was a place where the divinity in their blood could sing, spending time with half-siblings and distant cousins who could share in their experiences. It was a place that allowed them to revel in some of their more violent aspects like almost all demigods were wont to share. The Greeks were less competitive than the Romans, true, but such a fact wouldn't smother the embers of their heritage.

Most of the youngest half-bloods, those who signed for the beginner's block of his program did not, in fact, remind him of how he was at age twelve. They were preparing for war, true, however he doubted any of them felt the true weight of such a concept bearing down on them. He, on the other hand, from the moment he'd been claimed, felt like things were going to change for the worst. Every year, though he'd tried to remain positive, was another tedious drag of hoping that his fears wouldn't be realized. Disappointment always came for him in the end, with each year that passed him by.

The young campers that he took to training in the morning seemed so unburdened. They were attentive, eyes wide and shimmering in the early morning light that tended to shine through the trees of the woods. It had been argued by his mentor that an open area would be best to train them in to start, but she'd been convinced to allow for training in the northern part of the woods, near the beach in case they wanted to move locations.

After four days, Percy could say that whatever they were being taught at camp normally was adequate. Most of the campers who'd never experienced fighting monsters had a good grasp on weapon-play. Of course, they had no idea what it was like to be in real, heated combat, so that soon became lesson number one. Apparently, Daedelus' idea of bringing in monsters from Triple G Ranch had been reimplemented, though such monsters were pushed deep into the woods, held in celestial bronze cages and guarded by a menagerie of nymphs and satyrs. Only campers approved of by Chiron could practice their skills against these monsters, which made sense to Percy in the end.

Those who'd fought before against monsters both in camp and outside were perhaps the oddest for him to train. While they understood what it meant to be in a life or death situation, they still didn't grasp the intricacies of battle against intelligent opponents. Many monsters relied on their physical advantages instead of utilizing their brain. He was stuck in limbo for teaching them anything further, and he contemplated simply combining their group with the war veterans.

Most of them were decent enough in combat terms, however their mindsets still needed to be sharpened. Like a knife cut through soft objects, so too did the campers have to cut through whatever may stand in their way. It was unfortunate that so few of them had the potential to become great.

Or rather, that he saw so little potential left in each of them. While all of the older campers could improve a bit more, doubt lingered that any of them would go on to reach greatness.

As it was, Percy knew he couldn't stagnate in his own growth. Too much hinged on his own power, meaning he couldn't become glacial. He needed to become more, so much more, in such a short amount of time. Due to his time constraints, Percy felt more pressure than ever before. He doubted that he could find more ways to squeeze raw power out of the curse. Another avenue was needed, one which was already left wide open to him. It was a road that he'd walked away from years before. One that was cracked and littered with old world fears.

Once, his half-blood abilities were fearsome, not only to his enemies but also to himself. With earthquakes, tsunamis, and hurricanes at his fingertips, it was easy to fear what he could do if pushed to the edge. Those around him, the people he cared for, were always in danger when nearby. He was a walking disaster, much like many children of the Big Three. A time bomb ready to explode upon proper provocation.

Percy chuckled hollowly. He was seated on the floor of his cabin, legs crossed as he attempted to concentrate. He found it odd how his mind could wander so easily to other topics.

A glass of water was placed a foot in front of his body, mocking him for his weakness. The son of Poseidon growled a little at the random and utterly ridiculous thought. His distractions came often and in a variety of forms. Most times, it was his own mind wandering that led him astray from his task. Occasionally, it would be an outside force, such as a knock at his door or the rumble of his stomach.

Every afternoon, after he finished training, he would sit down with a glass of water. His main purpose was, of course, to hopefully find a way to use his demigod abilities once again. It was a daunting task, along with being especially infuriating, since he'd once been able to move _thousands_ of gallons of water with little effort.

' _How low I've fallen,'_ he ground out bitterly, a baleful glare directed at the innocent cup of water.

When he and his father spoke last, a glimmer of hope was ignited within his conscience. When he'd felt the barrier to Camp Half-Blood falter slightly, probably having barely registered him as having divine blood, the embers grew warmer. He would have included speaking to the Bathtub Barracuda as evidence of his divinity being intact, however when he'd tried to speak with Blackjack, his old friend was only been able to whinny sadly and shake his head.

The pegasus had also seemed a bit skittish when they met, which Percy contributed to Blackjack's keen senses. If Nico smelled like death, then he probably smelled like suffering. Overall, he wouldn't assume that suffering smelled good.

The young man snarled as he felt his concentration slip once more, his mind wandering once again outside the parameters he'd forced upon himself.

"Damn it!" Percy felt his anger boil forward, twisting and tearing at his gut. The pull that normally accompanied using his abilities became intensely uncomfortable as he focused on simply spilling the water over the cusp of the glass. It was filled to the brim and then some, a small curve appearing over the edge demonstrating surface tension. The smallest of nudges should have been enough. Instead, he found himself grinding his teeth in frustration at being unable to do something so simple.

He couldn't understand why it was fighting him. He used to wield his power with efficiency, with vigor and might that could give immortals a run for their money. His name had been able to send shivers down the spines of those who knew what he could do with his mastery over water. Even when he was starting to learn about his abilities he'd been able to succeed in controlling them. With his years of experience, it should have come easily to him. Instead, he clawed and grasped at even the smallest shred of light that came to him.

The discomfort in his abdomen grew into a frenzied ripping sensation. Through the anger and the indignance, Percy knew that he was taking it too far. Even so, he didn't dare stop. It was a form of punishment, for his failure to control what was rightfully his. Agony lanced through each nerve in his body, reaching the furthest corner, the last cell and embedding itself there for eternity. The pain tore into him, reaching deeper than ever before, yet not being the worst he'd ever experienced. It was simply... a very unique form of pain. There were no true words to describe what he felt, only vague concepts that chaotically ebbed and flowed into the streams of his conscience.

His curse was mind-breaking, Kronos' scythe was soul-rending, Ahriman's torture was spirit-crushing, the new pain that absorbed him was essence-defining. In the deepest reaches of what he assumed was his existence, something screamed at him to stop, begged and pleaded to be released, snarled and raged to be understood.

Through the suffering, he refused to make a noise, never letting his eyes leave the glass of water that stood defiant of his supremacy. His heart beat frantically in his chest while the blood roared in his ears, drowning out everything around him. The strain on his body felt immense, on par with holding up the sky, and worsening as time passed.

Bone creaked.

Muscle knotted.

Blood and fluid boiled.

It was his liver that failed first. Then his stomach that burst inside of his body, spilling its caustic contents. Soon, his intestines ruptured, as did his appendix. His spleen and right lung followed shortly after, leaving him struggling to maintain his focus while his body shut down at an alarming rate.

As soon as the left side of his body went numb, vision blurring and head pounding sharply, Percy released himself from concentration. A stroke was nothing to mess around with.

Doubling over, he grimaced as his body regenerated from the self-inflicted damage. Percy closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair in irritation. With his stomach acid inside his body, he'd need to visit a doctor to get his abdominal cavity rinsed out. It would do him no good to be constantly fighting infection.

When he opened his eyes, the son of Poseidon was greeted with a sight that made him pause.

The glass was half-empty.

He stared for several seconds, mind registering what he'd wrought. It had taken four days.

Percy could do nothing to stop the discordant and riotous laughter that soon filled his cabin.

* * *

The cool night air greeted his face eagerly. Gingerly, the Hero of Olympus closed the door behind him, so as to not wake his sleeping mentor. It was late, nearly midnight last he checked, which meant that they would both need to be up and ready for another day's worth of training in about six hours. From the start of their tenure at Camp Half-Blood, Scáthach chose to stay in Cabin 3 with him over the Big House, sleeping on the bed across from his own.

Already, two weeks passed Percy by. While most of his days were spent training campers, he enjoyed the occasional stroll in the evening to keep his mind clear. His time at camp was not only beneficial for the others, but also himself. Since there were no threats, he'd been given the grace of focusing on his own development.

Spilling the water from the glass was his first step. When it'd happened, Percy was nothing short of hysterically enthusiastic. It should have been easier after the initial challenge. Once he knew what he needed to do, things should have fallen into place by all rights. His power should have come to him, if not willingly, then by force. After all, it was _his birthright_.

Unfortunately, he'd only managed to take one more step since then. From eight fluid ounces to sixteen. At first, he'd only managed to spill half the glass, however, with more time and practice he'd finally been able to push the rest over the edge. As much as Percy wanted to mark it down as an accomplishment, he knew that it was a sad one at best. It still took his full concentration, in the company of the same odd pain, to manipulate sixteen fluid ounces a few inches in one direction.

Adding insult to injury, that step was taken only two days after the first. For a full week, Percy couldn't advance, a seemingly impossible obstacle placed before him. Each afternoon he spent drawing on his half-blood powers only brought him an ungodly amount of anguish.

When Hestia heard about his visit to the infirmary, she'd grilled him as to why. After learning about his extreme methods of reclaiming his power, she'd made him promise not to go to such lengths. Percy agreed to do so when he saw the concern plastered on his aunt's face.

Of course, he broke the promise easily enough. It was necessary to continue his growth, which meant that he couldn't bog himself down with ridiculous notions of safety. Too much was riding on his success and he'd be damned if he allowed absurd sentiment to block his progression. He felt slightly guilty about lying to Hestia, knowing that she placed her trust in him not to go overboard, however it was easy to replace the guilt with pain and forget his promise.

Yet, even with his resolve strong, he was stunted.

Percy looked up at the sky, seeing the stars glittering in the black backdrop. He let out a breath, long and slow, putting in a pair of earphones. Taking out an MP3 player from his pocket, he selected the playlist titled "Old But Still Gold" and began to jog away from his cabin. The thin polyester running shirt along with his shorts did little to stop the air from biting at his skin.

The camp was empty where he ran, something that didn't surprise Percy considering the time. He took a sharp left from his cabin area and moved toward the strawberry fields, shoes slapping the dirt rhythmically while his breathing steadied.

His mind wandered toward the problem of his demigod abilities. Try as he might, no good answer was presented to him. Percy was sure that part of the problem was Angra Mainyu and whatever he did those years back. The God of Evil claimed that he was fully human, but Percy now knew that not to be true. Certainly, he was still divine in some aspect, his father's blood flowing through him.

It occurred to Percy that he'd never _really_ tried to use his power when in Purgatory. A few half-hearted attempts scattered across several years didn't paint the picture of a desperate man. He very well might have been able to access his birthright sooner if he'd just _tried_ instead of accepting his status. Of course, he'd still been scared of his power at that time, which likely granted him no favors. Not for the first time did Percy mentally berate himself for his fear.

He had been too trusting. Too gullible, when dealing with Angra Mainyu to see through the half-truths that flowed from the charismatic deity's mouth. It cost him years upon years of once again training with his half-blood abilities, no doubt time that could have proven beneficial. Though, it was clear that Ahriman, for some reason, didn't _want_ Percy to use his divine birthright. Just before he killed the God of Evil, Percy would make sure to ask why.

With his thoughts continuing to race, Percy barely noticed the change in scenery until he reached the edge of the northern woods. He slowed in his movements, soon stopping his jog and entering into a leisurely walk. Pulling out his music player, he realized that he only ran for ten minutes, not quite a strenuous workout. Shrugging to himself Percy walked onto the beach, a place he found himself drawn to despite the years.

Taking a deep breath, the son of Poseidon squinted in the bright darkness, staring at the calm waters. The moon cast its glow down with more flair than usual, which made Percy frown at the notion. Artemis was either in a good mood, or she was prepared to hunt something particularly dangerous and her excitement was illuminating the West. Then again, both things could go hand in hand.

From the corner of his eye, he caught someone standing near the surf. If it had been any darker, he probably would have missed their figure completely, considering they wore dark colored clothing. In his mind, Percy noted that only two people he knew wore so much black at all times, both of who he wouldn't mind speaking with.

One such person was Nico, who he hadn't seen since arriving back in New York. Of course, he hadn't yet met again with Jason, Piper, or Leo either, though from what he understood they were all at Camp Jupiter to help Frank and Hazel oversee a bit of training there.

The other was Thalia, who he hadn't seen for a few days. Since the Hunt decided not to participate in his training sessions, Thalia often chose to train with them instead of him. He understood her connection with the Hunt, as well as her distance from him and Scáthach, though he would have preferred seeing her more often.

' _No time like the present.'_

Taking out his earphones, he strolled to where his cousin stood, watching to see if she would notice his approach. When she made no move to acknowledge his presence, even with him standing not three-feet away from her, the young man reached out and poked Thalia's ribs. The response he received was expectedly amusing.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKI-" The girl stopped short when she saw who had molested her peace. The rage in her face fell and she let out a huff of air while crossing her arms. Thalia gave her cousin a frown. "Fish Face…"

"Now that was one hell of a reaction," Percy said with a soft chuckle.

"Just surprised me is all…" Thalia grumbled, pointing her face toward the water. "What're you doing here, anyway?"

He hesitated in his reply, opening his mouth partially only to shut it and thin his lips. "I don't know."

The hunter's brow crinkled as she cast her back toward her cousin. "So… what? You're just out here, wandering the night, sneaking up on poor defenseless girls?"

Percy snorted loudly. "Defenseless? Are you seriously calling yourself defenseless? Who are you and what've you done with the real Thalia Grace?"

"Compared to you, I'm basically as defenseless as a newborn." Thalia's voice wavered slightly when she spoke, causing Percy to frown. The daughter of Zeus ran a hand over her chin. "What could I possibly do against somebody who can regenerate at the rate that you do? I saw most of that fight between you and your new mentor."

The young man nodded. "Most people in camp did. It was part of the plan, after all, to attract as much attention as possible so that you'd all be more… agreeable to being trained by two of All The World's Evil's warriors. People might implicitly trust me because of who I am and what I've done, but Scáthach is a different story. The spar was to show that she wasn't out for blood, mine or anybody else's."

Thalia laughed. "Yeah, I wouldn't be too sure that the message got through. You and her were going at it like you were actually trying to kill. At least, that's the impression I bet most of the campers got… Hell, I was thinking that you two were having an argument through the way you moved. It was almost like a physical… how did Annabeth say it… erm… dialectic. Yeah, a physical Hegelian dialectic, where she gave one point of view, which you disputed, and when the spar ended, something new was formed, a synthesis. At least, that's what Annabeth kept rambling on about."

Percy thought about the concept, contemplating what Thalia told him. "I suppose you could look at it that way, especially for what Scáthach and I did in the last part of the spar. Could you hear us from the sidelines?"

"No," she shook her head. "You weren't talking loud enough to get over the chatter. I could see your faces though. Definitely could tell that something was off at some point. She said something that pissed you off, that much I know. After that, you were all over the place. Cold, apologetic, hot…"

"Thanks, you're pretty hot yourself."

"Very funny, Seaweed Brain."

"Eh, it was partially meant as a joke, though I'm serious that you're hot."

Thalia shook her head with a smirk tugging at her mouth. "I'm sure you were. I wasn't saying that you looked hot, though. I was talking about the way you acted. That's not saying you aren't good looking…"

The son of Poseidon raised an eyebrow. "I'm flattered that you should think so. I'm not particularly vain, but I've caught a few eyes lingering here and there. Hell, even Nico had a crush on me for some time, though apparently, he's over it now."

"A regular lady-killer," Thalia rolled her eyes. "And man-killer, I suppose."

"I only kill the ones that try to kill me first," Percy shot back.

"Should I be worried then?"

"Hm, probably. You've come at me with your Zap-Zap 2: Electric Boogaloo a few too many times."

Stifling a loud guffaw, the daughter of Zeus cleared her throat instead. "Alright then Dr. Seuss, I'll be sure to watch my back from now on. Wouldn't want to make the near-invincible monster of strength angry at me."

Percy grasped at his chest suddenly in a faux gesture of pain. "You wound me, Thals. Going around, throwing hurtful words like 'invincible' and 'Dr. Seuss' at me without a care in the world! Keep talking like that and you'll end up making me cry."

"Oh yeah, sure, whatever you say, _H₂Overlord_ ," Thalia chuckled.

Faking a gasp, Percy moved forward and tightly hugged his cousin. Thalia stood nearly five inches shorter than him, leaving her at about five foot seven inches in height. Even though she was stuck at a physical age of sixteen, it was likely she'd already reached her maximum height through puberty before being given partial-immortality. As it was, Percy managed to affectionately rub his cheek into the top of her head, ruffling her hair a bit.

"You're the first person to actually call me H₂Overlord!" Percy cried, holding her tighter around the midriff. "It feels so good to hear it out loud!"

The girl grunted slightly as the air was pushed out of her body. She cautiously returned the hug, managing to free her arms to gently pat Percy's back. "Uh, hush now, little one. No need to cry. And stop messing up my hair!"

Grinning, the young man loosened his grip and locked eyes with Thalia. His eyes danced with mirth while his cousin gave him a bemused, yet dry, glance. Her confusion was warranted, though, considering even Percy found his actions odd. In truth, he wasn't particularly trying to accomplish anything, no clear goal in mind, therefore his deeds were mostly done in spontaneity. He was going with the flow, so to speak, enjoying the presence of the one person who'd given him so much when he felt he had so little.

"You're pretty cute when you're angry about your hair. You make it seem like you don't care about it, since it's almost always kinda messy, but you really must take some pride in how good it looks on you, right?" Percy asked, his crooked grin widening. They were still in close proximity, though they'd pulled their heads away to speak at a respectable distance.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Thalia sniffed, turning her head away from him.

Percy laughed and moved back, letting go of his cousin. He took time to stare at the sea as it washed onto the shore. A longing that he hadn't felt in quite some time reared its head, making him ache for the feel of being surrounded by his element. The thought of testing himself again, trying to move into the depths of the Atlantic, popped into his mind, though he suppressed them. There would be no point in such an attempt if he couldn't even control more than sixteen fluid ounces of water.

Thalia lightly tapped on his shoulder, gaining his attention. "You okay? Looking kinda bothered there."

The worry in her voice put him at ease a bit. She cared more than she might ever realize, and Percy loved her for it. "I was just… thinking…"

Silence pervaded them as Thalia waited for an answer. When it became clear she wouldn't receive one, the hunter tapped again.

"I guess… when I was in Purgatory... after I'd gotten there, I was just in so much shock of everything that I never took the proper time to grieve," Percy started, not bothering to glance at his cousin. He instead opted to stare into the ocean, his voice still carrying over to Thalia's ears. "I'd lost nearly everything I once thought was dear to me. Mom, Dad, Paul, Annabeth, Hestia, you… my power… it was basically all dead and gone from the world I was given. It was scary… _I was scared_ …"

She moved her hand forward, grabbing his in a gesture of comfort. "That's fair. With everything you went through, it's understandable that you'd feel that way."

The young man shook his head. "I know. Trust me, I know and have come to terms with that fear, especially since it isn't the most I've ever felt. Still, I should've known that he was lying. I should've done something, tried something, looked for something, fought _for something_ to get myself out of that state. I wouldn't call myself weak as I am―because I'm not―but it's only now that I've come to push past my fear that I understand everything I lost. Once, my demigod power was both a blessing and a curse. I had to walk on eggshells, knowing that with my abilities I could potentially kill everybody around me.

My rage, my greed, my lust, every _undesirable_ emotion had to be tempered so that I wouldn't blow up. It was like I was living a lie, never being able to just _let go_ and be all of me. There were a lot of times that my power could have been used differently. Hyperion and Kronos were good examples. I couldn't just let loose, though, since each time I had people I cared about around me.

After that, Annabeth and I spoke about my abilities in depth. Controlling the water inside of things… living creatures who could feel pain and happiness and fear… my thoughts were 'does anybody deserve that kind of terrifying power?' I was scared of that power, of being seen as another kind of monster in everybody's eyes. Once, it was my fear that gave rise to my strength, in Mt. Saint Helens. I was scared of dying, of burning, so I drew on everything that I was, that I had... and let it go in one moment. Afterwards, it was my fear that held me back from fulfilling my potential. All for the sake of other people's opinions."

Through his diatribe, Thalia listened with rapt attention. She kept her hand entwined with his, giving him a squeeze when he finished speaking. "Was it worth it?"

"Not even close," Percy replied harshly and immediately.

The daughter of Zeus gave a dry, apologetic smile. "I didn't think so. Just wanted to make sure you were right-in-the-head, though."

"I'm not sure if that's an insult or veiled compliment," Percy retorted snidely. He twisted his face and let out a long-suffering sigh. "I've been practicing, you know? Trying to get back to where I once was, then pass that level to go even further beyond. Not much progress so far, though."

Thalia frowned. "It sounds like you've at least made a _little_ progress. Why are you having trouble going on?"

"No idea," he shrugged, his tone displaying his annoyance. "The most I can control is a cup of water. Every time I try to command more, it never works out well. I've never had that problem before, so I couldn't tell you why it's happening either."

"Weird. I wish I could help you, Percy," the hunter said, her eyes dropping slightly. "I doubt that you've overlooked anything though, since you already have a good idea of how to use your half-blood abilities."

"Yeah, that would make sense," Percy muttered. "The tug in my gut is strong as ever, or rather even stronger than before, which means I'm doing _something_ right. I just can't… do more."

"Tug? In your gut? I always feel this jolt in my spine when I use my powers," Thalia's eyes narrowed and she allowed her confusion to show. "Maybe there is a way I can help you. Apart from the tug in your gut, what else do you feel when you use your power now?"

The son of Poseidon scowled. "Frustrated. Angry. I hate not being able to use my power like I'm supposed to. It takes all of my concentration to move such a little amount of water, not to mention all the pain that comes with it."

"Anything else you can think of? No offense, what you just told me actually gives me close to no information," Thalia replied. "I want to help you, Percy. Really, I do, but you really gotta give me more than that to work with."

Shifting through what he recalled, Percy tried to bring his mind back to training. There was always a swirl of emotions, mostly negative about his failure, with only the hope of regaining his power keeping him going.

When nothing came to the forefront of his mind he shook his head. "No, I can't really give you more than that. I… I don't know that I'll ever get my power back to the way it once was. I guess that's always been in the back of my mind during my personal sessions."

"You idiot."

The tone used made Percy glance at his cousin with raised eyebrows, his visage incredulous. "What? What did I do?"

Thalia released his hand and rubbed her face. She pursed her lips and sent the son of Poseidon a very irritated glare. "Our abilities are tied to willpower, you know that as much as I do."

"Yeah, I know," Percy replied haughtily.

"Then why the hell are you constantly _putting yourself down!?_ " Thalia's exasperation was made apparent through her hissed words. "C'mon, Kelp Head, you can't go into practice _expecting_ to fail at something. True enough, you may _want_ something to the extreme, but there's no point in chasing it if you aren't going to be _positive_ and actually get into the right mindset for succeeding. Do you know why I can't fly or control the wind like Jason?"

Percy took a few seconds to think about the question. He'd always figured that it was just because some demigods were given a certain subset of powers determined at birth. Then again, his thoughts on the subject never went too deep. Semantics, after all, was the bane of any sane person.

"No idea."

"It's because I don't have the right mindset for it. I'm scared of heights, which is something I might never get over. Controlling the wind needs a certain amount of weightless acceptance to it that I just _don't_ have. Jason, on the other hand, doesn't have that problem," Thalia explained somewhat impatiently. "You can't just _want_ it, Percy. It needs to be a _part_ of who you are. Even if it doesn't seem like it, these things should _feel_ instinctual. It needs to feel _right_ , like there's nothing that can stop you from getting what you want."

' _That… makes a lot of sense actually. After all, demigod powers are technically instinctual. My first bout of hydrokinesis was completely accidental against Clarisse and those Ares bullies. I wasn't thinking about it, I just didn't want to have my head dunked in a toilet.'_ Percy jittered at the thought.

"How… how am I supposed to make it feel instinctual if I don't even know what instinct feels like in the first place?" The young man asked anxiously.

His nervous demeanor was met with Thalia's fist to his arm. "What are you even saying? What the fuck's with that meek response? Percy, it's okay to be scared, but you can't let it bog you down. You talk about how control is the answer and, while that's technically true, are you really saying that the ocean is a concept that can be controlled? No, Percy, our powers are forces of nature. Control isn't the _complete_ answer.

Let yourself be swept away in the current. You did it at Saint Helens and look what happened. Yeah, it was destructive, dangerous, terrifying, but that was the moment when you literally shook the earth and brought the sea to you, hundreds of miles inland!

You're more powerful than me, Jason, Nico, and Hazel as a demigod! You beat Ares when you were twelve, fought Atlas and held up the sky _and_ survived a volcanic eruption at fourteen. Even when you held back, you fought against Hyperion, then Kronos, armies of monsters, and even Polybotes―who's technically your bane just like your Dad's.

You can do incredible things if you just damn well accepted that you can't keep us safe forever, that using your power comes with inherent risk. For fuck's sake, Percy, as half-bloods our lives were never going to be easy! There would _always_ be risks involved, always suffering, but we can't let that change the way we look at things. You can't half-ass this, otherwise, you'll keep failing to do what you want!

It sounds cheesy but you just have to go with the flow! Connect with the ocean again, remember what it was like to be the spawn of the sea. Do what you need to do so that you remember who―or rather, what―you are. Meditate, start zen yoga, eat seaweed, drink spinach smoothies, watch porn, I don't know! Just snap out of this funk and keep your head up!"

As Thalia panted from her long-winded and impassioned fulmination, Percy stood silent. He stared at the rolling waters before him, watching each soft wave as it crested and fell in on itself, bubbling and foaming as it approached the shore. The sound built in his ears, undulating turbulence against the backdrop of anarchic loathing that filled his brain. His teeth clenched and his abdomen ached, the water that came and went mocking him in its casual dismissal of his demands.

 _He was the Hero of Olympus._

 _He was the_ _ **son of Poseidon**_ _._

 _He would not be denied_ _ **what was rightfully his.**_

 _ **He was part of the sea, the sea was part of him, and he would be damned if his power were to be lost because of his doubts.**_

The water stopped moving.

No longer did the ocean encroach upon the sandy beach. Instead, it pushed back, further away from shore. It stormed and raged wildly, thrashing even as it was forced to recede from its natural position, the moon holding no more say in what the tides did. The violent and unpredictable nature of his domain fought every step of the way, though the resistance was a bit less than the past two weeks. It was a slight change, though it helped nonetheless.

Even then, however, the fight could not be won, not by him.

In the blink of an eye, Percy lost control. Both the pain in his gut and his head cost him any form of concentration. The sea spat its final vitriolic obscenity and smashed through his force of will, tugging at the divinity that still ran low in his very being. The waves soon resumed their typical motions, as if nothing ever stopped and bent them before. The ocean returned to its unchained state, leaving a taste of victory in Percy's mouth.

* * *

With nature back in control of its own power, the beach was filled with the sounds of swelling water. The occasional howl from deep within the woods reached the duo's ears. Between the two, neither opted to speak, allowing the action to hang in the air as if it were a momentous occasion.

"W-W-What was that?" Thalia finally asked, eyes wide at having witnessed the occurrence. She directed her attention away from the waters and to her cousin, whose countenance bore satisfaction. Though he still faced forward, his profile almost seemed to glitter in the unnaturally bright moonlight, brimming with cold confidence.

"I think…" Percy's powerful and dominating voice cut through the air. "You just verbally kicked my ass into gear. The first and second steps were already taken… and I just took a few more in the right direction."

The hunter stared disbelievingly. " _You think?_ Well… I guess I'm glad to have helped in some way then. Still though, to go from a glass of water to... _that_?"

Bringing his face around, the young man gave a lopsided smile, his previous expression having warmed exponentially. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder to pull her closer. "Yeah, pretty cool right? Thanks for the pep-talk, Thals." His chipper voice set the hunter at ease.

Nodding, Thalia kept silent as the two of them stood together under the moon's glow. Idly resting her head on Percy's shoulder, she took a deep breath, the scent of the sea filling her nose. Her eyes briefly flickered up to his face, then to the waves, wondering which of the two she was actually smelling.

After a while, Percy separated himself from Thalia, a grin still plastered on his face. "You up for a little dancing?"

"Dancing?" Thalia scoffed, crossing her arms. "Can you even dance, Seaweed Brain? Last I heard, you weren't exactly the dancing queen, young and sweet only fourteen, at Westover Hall."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny," Percy waved her concerns off. "Slow dancing may not be my thing but I wouldn't say I don't have _any_ moves. Besides, I'm feeling pretty good after controlling the _fucking ocean again._ Humor me?" He held out a hand imploringly.

With an exaggerated sigh, his cousin opted to comply. "Alright, what're we dancing to then?"

Percy thought about it for a moment before pulling out his music player and scrolling through the playlist he was already on. He unplugged the earphones and let the music play out loud, having selected a song that his mom adored: The Loco-Motion by Grand Funk Railroad.

As the song began, Thalia cocked her eyebrow at the choice. "Really? Is this what you listen to?" Even so, she began to move along with the lyrics and the beat, allowing herself to fall into an easy tempo of stepping and swaying. "I feel like a grandma dancing to this, jeez."

"Don't knock the oldies," Percy retorted as he twirled Thalia around his arm, struggling to dance smoothly on the sand. "I'll have you know, my music tastes vary. Alt Rock and Punk are great-"

"A man after my own heart."

"-But there are so many great songs in so many other genres. Like the sea, I can't be tied down to just _one_ thing."

Thalia snickered softly. "Well this is an okay song, that's for sure."

The son of Poseidon grinned as he began to sing along, trying and failing to do both the main verses and the backup vocals. Even so, he continued undeterred as Thalia laughed loudly at his ridiculous attempts.

" _Now that you can do it well let's make a chain now~_

 _(Come on baby, do the Loco-Motion)_

 _A chugga-chugga motion like a railroad train, now~_

 _(Come on baby, do the Loco-Motion)_

 _Do it nice and easy now don't lose control, a little bit of rhythm and a lot of soul_

 _So come on, come on, do the Loco-Motion with me~"_

They swept around one another, chuckles rippling through their bodies even as their feet stumbled due to the uneven grounding. Eventually, it was Thalia who lost her footing, falling to the ground and pulling Percy down along with her.

Sea-green met electric-blue as the two lay next to one another. Their laughter came back in full force, both half-bloods moving closer together to share each other's warmth. When they gathered their wits, neither moved away. Instead, they studied one another, eyes flickering over the features that they each already knew well.

Percy leaned toward his cousin.

His lips ghosted across Thalia's earlobe. His warm breath tickled her skin, bringing a nearly imperceptible shiver to the hunter's body. He gently nibbled at her ear before placing a soft kiss against her neck.

A low sigh left Thalia's mouth as goose bumps crawled across her skin when Percy descended from her jugular to her clavicle. Though it was difficult to angle his head properly because of their position, Percy kept going, focusing on nothing more than the woman before him.

Moving some of her jacket to the side, the son of Poseidon reached her collarbone and traced his way back up. Propping his upper body on one of his arms to gain a bit more leverage, he kept close to her, not willing to let the moment fade because he drew back too far.

"I love you," he mumbled, pressing his forehead against her own when she brought her face around. They looked at one another for several seconds, Thalia's gaze occasionally dropping to his lips before they flickered back up.

"I love you too."

She pushed him back onto the sand, rolling and swinging one of her legs over his waist. Thalia settled on his midriff, face looming over Percy's own. Without further hesitation, she kissed him, catching him slightly off guard and bumping teeth with him.

She pulled back and smiled sheepishly when Percy began to chuckle. "Sorry, I've… uh… well, I don't have practice with this. I'm probably not going to be any good."

Percy smiled. "No problem. I wasn't some kind of expert at first either. Hell, I still think I can learn a few things."

Thalia nodded and descended once again, moving slowly so as to avoid hurting herself or her lover. Once their lips met, she decided to follow Percy's lead, knowing his experience outclassed hers by a fair margin. She felt his mouth begin to move slightly, molding with her own, which led her to do the same thing, hoping to reciprocate his advances.

Idly, the hunter realized why people enjoyed kissing. The thought passed through her brain, knowing she wouldn't mind more in the future.

Another thought soon ate up her attention. Thalia knew that what she was doing violated the vow she'd taken in becoming a hunter. For two weeks, she'd wrestled with the question of whether she loved Percy enough to leave the Hunt. There was a time when her perceptions were tinted, seeing the choice as an easy one to make. Percy was a light, one that she enjoyed staring at and basking in, pulling her from the darkness that the rest of the world seemed to be enamored with. He was a charismatic leader, even if he didn't realize it himself, one who she could easily see herself standing beside. He was a good person who she would happily sacrifice herself for if it meant his safety, to allow his heroic life continuation.

When he returned to Camp Half-Blood, things felt like they were going to be perfectly fine, with him there to help. Yet, her conceived notions were bent when they'd spoken on the beach. Even though he didn't explicitly ask her to leave the Hunt, he'd given her his words of affection, which put her in the same position. Furthermore, he told her about his two other romantic interests, only disillusioning her even more. She'd rejected him, out of confusion and hurt and betrayal. It was only later that she understood that the only thing that betrayed her was her own ridiculous glorification of Percy Jackson.

He was not perfect, nor had he ever claimed to be. Instead, she came to see him as he always should have been. Flawed, prone to mistakes, selfish... human. While she knew before then that he was not perfect, for some reason his flaws were only superficial, instead of defining. They were small scuffs on an otherwise immaculate piece of art.

Through everything that happened, though, Thalia was surprised that she was only mildly disappointed. Moreso when she came to the realization that her disappointment was not held against Percy, but rather herself. Even though his personality wasn't the essence of virtue she'd once thought it was, he was still the same Kelp Head that she loved. Perhaps there was more she couldn't see, however, she would endeavor to restrain herself from presumptions.

Leaving the Hunt wasn't an easy decision, but she'd made her choice as soon as they started talking. While Percy wasn't the shining light that she fooled herself into believing he was, such an ideal was never what she loved him for in the first place. She felt the comparison of moving on from the Hunt to be with Percy was like choosing to listen to blink-182's best hits versus Green Day's best hits. While she was a fan of both bands, she preferred Green Day, and would, therefore, choose accordingly. She supposed in a way it made sense, considering Percy's eyes were green, in their own interesting way. Then again, the situation was far more serious than trivialities like choosing what kind of music she would listen to.

"And so it happens."

The voice that spoke immediately broke the two demigods apart. Thalia rolled off of Percy, standing up straight as she stared at Artemis, her mind racing at the sheer coincidence of it all. The goddess quirked her eyebrow at the flushed face of her lieutenant. Percy stood a bit slower than Thalia had, rubbing the sand out of his hair irritably.

"Lady Artemis," Thalia greeted, eyes dropping a few centimeters when Artemis narrowed her gaze. "How did... why...?"

"I've kept an eye on the Hunt for some time, meaning I've noticed your withdrawn behavior the past several days. A few nights ago I took to watching you, hoping to see what troubled you. It seems as though I finally found out."

Thalia swallowed. Her voice quivered for a moment before it was steeled. "This… is exactly what it looks like. I've broken my oath to you, milady, seeking the company of men and becoming romantically invested. This was my own fault, not Percy's. If you punish anybody, I ask that it be-"

"No, this wasn't her fault. If you're gonna get pissed at anybody then I'd be the one to blame," Percy interrupted, garnering a glare from Thalia. He ignored the look and set a passive smile on the goddess in front of him. "Of course, don't expect me to just sit still while you try to castrate me or turn me into a jackalope. Crom Cruach was _much_ scarier than you could ever be. Also much more fabulously dressed."

Artemis bristled slightly at the jab, her eyes flashing bright silver. "You've grown in many ways, _Perseus._ Arrogance doesn't suit you, though, so stop trying to incorporate it into your character, _boy_."

"Milady, please, don't take what he says seriously," Thalia said, stepping in front of Percy defensively. "You know how he is, smart mouth and all that."

"I'm well aware of how he can run his mouth," Artemis droned, frowning at the young man. "You would do well not to speak so quickly on things you've no comprehension of. I didn't come to attack anybody."

Thalia saw Percy's shoulders relax minutely. She too felt a bit of tension drain from her body with Artemis' words. "Milady, why have you come then? Surely… this isn't a pleasant meeting…"

The goddess thinned her lips. "It certainly isn't pleasant for me. However, I can't say it would be very unpleasant for you. As a leader, I am so _very_ disappointed in you, Thalia. As a friend, I am hurt that you wouldn't come talk to me about this sooner."

"I'm not sure I follow…?" The daughter of Zeus puzzled over the relatively calm demeanor Artemis adopted.

"You should have just _told me_ what the situation was, Thalia. I would have understood your reasons for loving him, for wanting to be with him. The oath that you took does not bind you to my service forever," Artemis stated with a shake of her head. "If a hunter were so displeased with my Hunt they could ask to be released from their vow. You could very well have done the same, though it would have been for different reasons, obviously."

Thalia gaped slightly at the flippant statement. "B-B-But I thought… the wording sounded… it just felt so… complete. Why does it sound so final if there's a way to get out of it? Can't you… I dunno… add a little fine print section or something to explain these things for people!?"

"You mean I never told you?" Artemis asked with a frown, holding her chin, obviously perturbed. "I could have sworn that I did during your orientation as my… lieutenant… ah of course… you didn't go through the proper channels and I made you my lieutenant shortly after… yes, now I recall."

Both half-bloods palmed their faces. Percy chuckled ruefully, patting his raven-haired cousin on the shoulder apologetically. "Looks like you were forming ulcers for no reason, huh?"

"I do believe that Zoe also forgot to mention this to our newer recruits when she was still part of the Hunt. You see, there was a time when my vows _were_ quite binding. It was only at the turn of the 19th century that I changed my mind on the wording and whatnot," the goddess explained with a nod. "I suppose I should also inform the other hunters… just to avoid any undue conflict in the future, much like now."

"Milady, no offense, but what the actual fuck?"

Artemis waved off Thalia's vulgarities and gave the young woman a squeeze on the arm. "That frivolity aside, tell me, are you sure that this is what you want? Leaving the Hunt is no small decision, especially if it is for romantic love. Should you wish to come back, it would need to be before you two have sex, so try not to move too quickly in the relationship."

The daughter of Zeus stared at the goddess with unmitigated surprise. "Yeah… this is what I want… it hurts to say goodbye to the Hunt and it wasn't a decision I made lightly... but for some reason, it feels like I'm making the right choice. I thought you'd be more upset at all this."

"Saddened by the loss of another lieutenant and good friend, not so much upset," Artemis replied softly. "And I can understand what you feel. Recall, once I found myself beginning to harbor romantic feelings toward Orion. I did not love him when he died, however, given more time, I might have. These things are natural, Thalia." She turned her attention to Percy. "I hope you'll treat her the way she deserves."

"I'll do my best," Percy affirmed with a nod.

The two powerful beings exchanged stony glances, neither backing down in the face of the other. Thalia looked between the two, worried that her cousin might start something due to his usually brash nature. He'd always had a way of annoying even the calmest of deities in the past.

"Thalia," Artemis' voice cut through the awkward silence. "It's late, why don't you go to bed. We can explain your decision to the rest of the Hunt tomorrow morning. It is during that time that you may surrender your title and leave the Hunt."

"I…" the daughter of Zeus bit her lip, thinking better of saying anything else. "It was a pleasure serving, My Lady." She bowed toward the Goddess of the Hunt and turned to her cousin. "I think my actions already told you my answer, but if you need me to say it I will."

Percy shook his head. "No, I think I got the message. Thanks for tonight, Thalia. I won't be forgetting it anytime soon."

The former hunter smiled and pulled her lover into another kiss. They stayed connected for a few seconds, both still aware they were in the presence of a deity, though neither with the inclination of ruining the moment. Eventually, Thalia moved back and grinned widely at the son of Poseidon. They nodded to one another before she walked away. The daughter of Zeus hoped that the hunters, those she could see as her sisters-in-arms, would be able to accept her decision without too much difficulty. As her legs carried her off the beach, she sent one last glance back at both the goddess and the mortal, watching as the waves churned behind them. She sighed, hoping that her cousin had enough sense to keep a level head.

Getting between two powerhouses the likes of Percy and Artemis would be suicide, meaning she wouldn't be able to stop them should a fight break out.

* * *

From the corner of his eye, Percy watched Thalia leave the beach. His attention was then solely directed at the goddess who stared at him shrewdly. The young man waited for her to speak first, not knowing why she'd wanted to keep him with her on the beach. He was only slightly annoyed that she interrupted the intimacy between himself and Thalia, which probably helped her odds of not suffering through his more venomous sarcasm.

"You're strong," Artemis stated calmly, holding her hands behind her back. She thinned her lips. "Dangerous too. Very dangerous indeed. Back when I wanted to spare your life, I could never have imagined that your path would lead to how you are now. Seeing what you've become almost makes me wonder if I made the right choice."

Percy smirked. "Is that so? Why do you say that, Artemis? Are you scared of little ol' me? I'm flattered, really I am, to have a goddess admitting that she was so short-sighted to leave a potential threat alive. Too bad that it's _way_ too late for anything to be done about it, huh?"

The goddess sneered back at the young man, her eyes shining brighter. "You think highly of your strength. Perhaps too highly, _boy_. The Olympians are _gods_ , whereas you still remain mortal. Difficult to kill, however you are mortal nonetheless. It would be in your best interest not to get on our bad side."

"I wouldn't be so sure that my mortality is something you can so easily exploit," Percy replied flippantly. "Why so much hostility in the first place anyway, Artemis? I'm surprised that somebody like you would go and pick a fight with somebody who's done nothing to you first. Seems more like an Ares thing to do."

"Tell me something, Perseus. What is driving you forward?"

"A goal. To reach the goal that I've always been stretching for."

Artemis gave him an expectant stare. "What would this goal be? Your answer may very well put my mind to ease if I could be content with whatever it is. I didn't mean to sound so… aggressive… I'm merely trying to understand you better."

Percy snorted derisively. "Hell of a way to do it then. My goal is to be happy. It's not a noble goal, it's actually pretty damn selfish, but it's what I've got going for me. I'm sure that actually just makes things more complicated for you to come to terms with."

"Yes, not exactly trying to inspire confidence in me, are you, Perseus?"

"Ha, no, not exactly what I was aiming for. I gave you an honest answer, which should count for something in my mind," he shrugged.

Artemis mulled the answer over in her mind, closing her eyes as she crossed her arms. Eventually, the goddess opened her eyes and pinned Percy with a skeptical stare. "Your answer is vague and troubling, however, out of respect for you I won't ask for elaboration. Instead, I'd like to hear your thoughts on what my sister once told you about your Fatal Flaw."

The young man's eyes lit up amusedly. "Oh... that. Well, she told me that to save a friend, I'd sacrifice the world. Back then, I really didn't understand why my loyalty was so terrible."

"And what about now? Do you understand now?"

"I do. That's beside the point, though. Athena was wrong. Rather, she's wrong now, after the past few years. I wouldn't sacrifice the world to save a friend. I would drown the world with my own hands... so that I could save the people that make me happy."

"Living with such an extreme mindset..." Artemis stared at him curiously. "I wonder if you were always a monster... or if it was just a matter of circumstance. Tell me, if those people stopped making you happy, what would happen after there was nobody left in this world for you? Do you truly think that you are limited to them for your happiness? Are you so narrow-minded that you can't see the larger picture? Or instead, do you delude yourself into thinking that going through with such extreme measures will keep you happy for the rest of your life? If you think that because you disproved Athena's words, you've somehow subverted your Fatal Flaw, then you've only shown me that you _cannot_ think beyond what is in front of you. Your flaw is still personal loyalty... because it was always about _you_ and your selfish desires. Learn to temper it... or one day it will eat at you from the inside... consuming what makes you human... until there's nothing left of the man I've come to respect, leaving only a rabid beast that needs to be put down."

With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, her form beginning to shimmer.

Percy averted his eyes before the flash came. When he looked back, there was nobody else on the beach with him. He stared at the rolling waves, then glanced at his hands.

The goddess' words repeated in his mind even as he allowed a gentle smile to cross his face. The night, while completely unexpected, had been an interesting one indeed.

* * *

 **A/N: I don't own any rights to the song "Do the Loco-Motion" by Grand Funk Railroad or any of its various other forms, including the original by Little Eva. Just wanted to throw that out there, in case, I dunno, somebody did think that.**

 **(EDIT) For about an hour I'd accidentally posted a second-draft version of this chapter, which left out some key parts of the chapter when it came to Thalia's thoughts. I took that version of the chapter down to upload the final draft. Those who managed to read the unfinished product before I took it down may want to re-read that section, though it's totally up to you.**


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